


And When The Cold Wind Blows...

by itsnotmyfault



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Blood, Crack, Fighting, Fluff, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Mob Fusion AU, Modern Fantasy AU, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Phil: aight whos next on the adoption list, Phil: oH sHiT HeRe We gO AgAin, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Social Anxiety, Sword Violence, Tags May Change, Temporary Character Death, bc like half of these kids are undead, dream is generally not in for a good time, only some of it tho, techno: appears, the injuries arent described in graphic detail but i mean they're there so be careful please, the only one whos in for a good time is me (:, there are fights, this is just a bunch of idiots screwing around in a house that they destroy every other day, which also explains the ptsd tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 28,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26125471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsnotmyfault/pseuds/itsnotmyfault
Summary: “... you’ll know where to find me.”-Techno stumbles upon a house filled with chaos, war, and yelling.He's never felt safer.
Relationships: Dream Team - Relationship, Sleepy Bois - Relationship, this is all platonic get outta here ya nasties
Comments: 318
Kudos: 1973





	1. So You Left

**Author's Note:**

> yeah so im an mcyt simp now yall can cancel me.   
> I'm working on the next chapter of "let the life support choke you," so expect that sometime soon.   
> But this idea has been boucning around my brain for weeks and it's time i've finally let it free.

Techno had traveled for miles and miles. He’d visited towns, cities, even capitals of kingdoms where security was as tight as a knot in a rope. It’s hard to remember where he started at some points, but he stopped worrying after a point. No use trying to get back what was already forgotten. 

Techno’s journey never had a destination, or any sort of planned ending. He’d spend days with the thoughts that he was going to be alone forever, doomed to watch the world around him like some sort of audience member. He never bothered to interact with anyone, lest they figure out what he truly was. 

That all changed one afternoon. 

Techno was sitting by a lake, resting as he watched the birds fly by him. The trees around him were still wet from a rainstorm a couple days ago, and the sound of dripping water was the only thing that echoed through the forest. 

Until he heard those wings. 

At first he thought it was another flock of birds, or perhaps bees. This was a forest after all. But when there was no buzzing or chirping, Techno started to get susipious. Every peaceful animal that flew made some sort of noise. 

And yet, he could only hear the soft buzz of wings constantly flapping up and down. Techno was starting to feel as though he was being watched, even though there was nothing around him. 

Techno reached for his sword. The faint sound of wings, feeling watched… 

Vexes. 

He jumped at the revelation. Vexes meant evokers, and evokers meant more vindicators and more evokers, and that was the last thing he needed. 

“I know you’re here,” he said, trying to hide the shakiness in his voice. “Show yourself.”

He didn’t know if that was really intimidating, but he read it in a book once, and something was better than nothing. 

Nothing responded, only the sound of the wind blowing through the trees answered him. 

“ I… I said-“

“Ok! Ok! Jesus calm down,” a squeaky voice echoed. Techno flinched a bit. 

All of a sudden, a boy flew out of the tree. He had tan skin, dark hair, and most noticeably, two transparent wings attached to his back and bright glowing eyes shining through the wood. 

“Dude, you really need to chill,” the vex said. Techno didn’t say anything, trying to see where the evoker was hiding. 

“Hey, are you listening?! I’m-“

“Where’s the evoker.”

The vex looked taken aback. “E- oh, you mean Bad?”

Techno blinked. “No, I meant the evoker.” 

The vex shook his head. “Ok, first off- he’s my friend, not ‘the evoker’ or whatever. Second off, his name’s Bad. BadBoyHalo.”

“Whe-“

“He’s not here.” 

“Oh.” 

Well, Techno made this real awkward real fast. He withdrew his sword a bit. What was he supposed to do now?

“Are you a fusion?” 

“I- what?”

“You have no eyes dude.” 

Techno jerked his head up, his hands instinctively going to cover his eyes. He forgot to put the bandages on, didn’t he? Anyone could see the gaping holes where his eyes should have been. Oh god, how long had he been without the bandages? Who saw him like this? Were they already-

“Um, you ok?” The vex hesitantly asked, snapping Techno out of his panicked spiral.

“I’m fine,” he barked out. “I’m… yeah. I’m a fusion.” 

The vex (he really needed to get their name, didn’t he?) titled his head a bit, considering his answer. 

“We have a house.” 

“A what.”

“I mean- there are other fusions here. We all live in a house. You could stay. With us, I mean.” 

Techno stared at the vex, trying to process everything that was happening. It was his first social interaction in about a month, and he was already being invited to some random person’s home. 

“So wait,” he started. “You stalked and followed me, didn’t talk to me until I realized you were there, and then you just invite me to live with you because I’m part mob?” 

“… Yeah?”

“I’m… intrigued.”

The vex seemed to perk up at that, suddenly growing to full size and grabbing Techno’s hand, ignoring how the other flinched at the sudden touch. 

“My name’s Skeppy, by the way,” Skeppy said as he started dragging Techno away. “We don’t really get a lot of visitors here, but then again, Fundy and George did go around and spread rumors about there being a bloodthirsty monster in these woods, but Dream lives here so that’s not entirely inaccurate. Anyways, the villages around us are almost made entirely of scaredy cats so you don’t have to worry about people…” 

Techno started to tune him out after a minute or so. This was a lot for him considering the most social thing he did in the past year was play with someone’s dog for an hour. He stared at the forest around them, inwardly cringing at the thought of trying to remember his way out. He’d have to leave eventually, that’s just how things worked. He never really-

“SKEPPY!”

Techno jumped. He turned to see a black robed man running at Skeppy, a scowl plastered over his dark visage. Skeppy didn’t even look scared, a grin slowly growing on the vexes’ face. 

“Oh hey Bad-“

“Don’t ‘Oh hey Bad’ me! You blew up the kitchen!” The evoker screeched. “Honestly Skeppy, I know that you’re not used to having more than the two of us here but-“

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t even near the kitchen. It was Dream’s turn today. He probably-“

“Don’t-Don’t do this again! You always do this thing where you pretend it wasn’t you, and then I believe you, and then it turns out-“

Techno carefully decided that listening to this argument wasn’t going to help him, opting instead to look at the mansion towering over them. It was tall, about three floors from what he could see, plus an extra window at the top probably meaning an attic of some kind. It was made out of cobblestone and dark wood, and if it was shorter, it probably would have blended in with the forest around it. 

“Wait- Skeppy, who’s this?” 

Techno turned, assuming he was supposed to join the conversation at this point, or at least pretend to. 

“Oh, I found him sleeping in the woods. He’s… wait, what’s your name?” 

“Techno.”

“Yeah, Techno. He’s a skeleton, right?” 

Techno honestly didn’t feel like correcting anyone at this point, so he just nodded and went along with it. 

“Well, um, welcome!” Bad said with a nervous smile. “I guess I’ll show you around, then?” 

“Wait, what about-” 

“YOU,” Bad’s smile turned demonic as he faced Skeppy. “Are going to clean up the kitchen. Got that?” 

Skeppy stuck his tongue before skipping away. Techno awkwardly stood there, the craziness of the situation just now hitting him. 

Bad turned back to him, a smile repainted on his face. “Um, anyways, Techno right? Let’s go!” He grabbed Techno’s hand (did everyone here greet each other by grabbing hands? Was this something he’d have to get used to?) and pulled him through the front doors of the mansion. 

The inside was as expansive as the exterior, though not nearly as cleanly. There was a fancy stairway in front of him, along with a hallway on each side. The rugs were stained with blood, and there was a rising fear that he had entered some sort of murder mansion. 

Bad meanwhile, angrily muttered about something called… manberg? From what Techno could hear anyway. That and having people do their chores around here. 

“Um,” Techno started. “Is everything-”

And just like that, a group of boys came tumbling through the roof. Right above them.

Techno’s instincts kicked in, pulling himself and Bad out of the way before they could be crushed under the falling bodies. Bad let out a very manly shriek, tumbling backwards into the front door. 

Techno pushed himself off the ground, focused on the threat in front of them. Or… whatever was going on in this mansion. 

His eyes fell upon a blonde teen and a grown man wearing a smiley face mask westling, or at least, the teenager was trying to. The masked man was holding him back with one hand, looking ready to stab him with the sword in the other. 

“Dream!” Bad shouted from behind Techno. “No stabbing!”

The boy in the mask turned to face them, and Techno anxiously noted the blood splatters on the edge of the mask. His arms and legs were a sickly green, with stitches tracing from his all the way down to his fingertips. 

Dream titled his head, staring at Techno. “I didn’t know we were having visitors Bad,” he replied in an almost taunting tone. “I would’ve finished this earlier if you told me.” 

The teenager perked up at this. “Shut the fuck up you stupid son of a bitch, you are so bad you had to- wait, who the fuck is that?!” 

“LANGUAGE!” Bad yelled even louder. Techno covered his ears. If this was a house where people had to scream to establish dominance, he’d be dead before the day ended. 

Bad seemed to catch on, lowering his voice. “This is Techno. He’s going to be staying with us for a few days.  _ Do not  _ try to get him involved in… whatever you’re doing.” 

“The Revolution!” the teenager suddenly shrieked again. “ FOR L’MANBERG!” And with that, he threw a potion straight at Dream, before running away and laughing like a maniac about a “bitch boy.” 

Dream’s entire face turned red, following close behind him. “OOOH TOMMY~!” 

Both their screams echoed through the hallways until at last, they disappeared into the horizon. 

An awkward silence followed right after. This was not a good start for Techno’s state of mind. 

“I am…” Bad said after a while. “So sorry. They’re having a war over the right wing of the mansion. Which would be fine if they kept it  _ to the right wing!”  _

Techno steadied himself. He wasn’t a people person, but even he could sense the rant incoming. 

“I swear, the muffin heads are gonna destroy the place and then act surprised when they don’t have anywhere to sleep. They don’t care about anything except winning! It’s just- ugh.” 

Bad turned back to him, cobalt eyes studying empty black pockets. “I’m so sorry about them. There’s nothing too important on the right side other than their rooms and the library, but-”

“There’s a library?” Techno interrupted. When was the last time he had sat down and read a book? Must have been a couple months, at least. Libraries weren’t as secure as castles or vaults, but Techno always felt bad breaking in, and the whole “bandages over eyes” thing made it hard to come up for an excuse for why he would go in at all. 

Bad nodded. “ I think it’s still unclaimed, but that just means they're going to be fighting there a lot more. Something about having 10,000 iq if you go in there? I’m not sure though.”

Techno put his hand to his chin, thinking quietly. “Does the library have a door that can be locked?” 

Bad blinked slowly. “Yeah…? Are you planning something?” 

“I’m thinking I might have a way to end this war.” 

Bad’s eyes sparkled. “Really?!”

Techno nodded, hiding the growing smirk on his face. 

_ ‘I am so getting banned from here.’  _


	2. To See What Was Beyond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno meets the rest of the 'family'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aldk;afd; i dont like thsi chapter but i wanted it out so i could start writing something i actually enjoy. Also TW: Techno has social anxiety and he comes close to a panic attack multiple times during this chapter.

Techno strolled through the halls towards the kitchen. Or at least, what he thought was to the kitchen. He’d been here for like, 2 hours. He had no idea where he was going. 

Still, he walked with purpose as he made his way over to the kitchen, noting how bashed up the walls were. This “war” was worse than he thought. 

Techno eventually reached the kitchen, and it was surprisingly intact. Only a few dents here and there. At least this place was still holding on, no matter how little it was. 

“Oh, hey there!”

Techno turned to the source of the voice. The man with the smiley mask was standing in the corner, waving at him. He had seemingly dropped his murderous intent from just a few hours ago. 

“H...Hello,” Techno stuttered out. He was a bit taken aback by how calm he was. Especially with the blood still on his mask. 

“You’re Techno right?” Dream asked, smiling wider as he looked the newcomer up and down, almost sizing him up. 

  
  


Looking closer at him, he could see now that the sickly green skin he saw earlier was only in patches, along with some very dry looking pale skin. Judging from the sides of his face, he probably was even more patchwork-like under his mask. 

“...Yeah,” Techno answered after a couple seconds. Dream felt… familiar in some way. Like he had seen him before. Maybe before he became like this?

“Nice to meet you! I’m Dream, if you didn’t know,” he said,his tone a lot more relaxed. “I’m um… a zombie, but you can probably tell already.” 

“Skeleton.”

“Cool! Anyways, has Bad given you the tour yet? The mansion is a bit of a mess right now, but that’s only cause L’manberg blew everything up. I can give you one if you want!”

“... I was wondering what ‘L’manberg’ is, exactly.”

Dream’s smile got slightly more strained. “ ‘L’manberg’ is nothing more than a group of pussies who think they’re cooler for not following some basic common sense.” He tilted his head, in an almost innocent yet terrifying way. “Why? You’re not thinking of joining them, are you?” 

“...No,” Techno replied evenly. He sounded so serious about it that if Bad hadn’t talked to Techno, he might’ve thought there was an actual war going on. 

“That’s great!” Dream smiled again, as if the last two minutes of the conversation didn’t happen. “Anyways, how about that tour?” He casually slung his arm around Techno’s shoulder (if one more person in this place touched him again, he was going to have a goddamn  _ panic attack- _ )

“I-”

“Ah, there you are!”

They both turned to see Skeppy flying into the kitchen. “I was wondering where you went. I look away for one second, and then you’re gone!”

Techno blinked at him. “Weren’t you supposed to be in here anyways…?”

“Yeah, well, change of plans,” Skeppy quickly changed the subject. “Bad says its better for you to meet everyone at once so you know who’s who and all that. Everyone’s in the living room now!”

Techno nodded, while internally screaming. How many people were in this place? Were they nice? If people are waging literal wars in here, they probably wouldn’t be that nice to outsiders. Could he really stop this? What was he doing here? Why did he think this was a good idea? Would they all touch him? Would he have to talk about himself?

The trip to the living room passed by in a blur. By the time he was there, he was so anxious that his hands were already shaking. He gulped as he watched Skeppy open the door to the living room, and followed slowly after. 

The living room was by far the nicest place in the mansion so far. There was a chandelier, a couple of red velvet couches, some nice rugs-

_ And so many  _ **_people._ **

Oh god, there must have been like, 10 people turning and staring at him. Oh god, this was too much. Waaay too much. 

Nevertheless, Techno slowly made his way to where Bad was waving, knees shaking every step of the way. 

He slowly sat down, doing his best to calm his nerves and appear somewhat stable. 

Bad smiled, eyes trailing down to his shaking hands. He didn’t seem to pay much mind though, quickly turning to the large crowd before them. 

“Everyone, this is Techno. He’s gonna be staying with us for a while,” Bad said as if he was a new student in highschool or something. “I figured we should introduce everyone at once after…” Bad’s eyes slid to an orange haired boy in a black jacket. “...Last time.” 

Techno raised an eyebrow, but decided not to question it. 

A boy with very blue skin and torn up brown clothes stood up. “Um, well, I’m Wilbur. I’m a drowned zombie, if you couldn’t tell. My other titles include, musician, dirty crime boy, leader of L’manberg; which, if you didn’t know by the way-”

“He already knows everything he needs to know about what L’manberg is,” Dream interrupted, pushing his mask slightly to show off his patched up face and glowing orange eyes. 

“Oh,” Wilbur replied, hands balling up into fists.  _ “Does he?” _

“Guys, guys, enough!” another man interrupted, pushing himself off the floor. He looked significantly older than the other two, eyes with bags around them and some blonde scruff on his chin. “I’m Phil. I’m an enderdragon, and according to everyone else here im the ‘dad’ of this mansion.” He swooshed the tail and large black and purple wings behind his back (how did he miss those the first time he came in?) 

“Who’s going next?” 

The man in the black suit shrugged. “Me I guess. I’m Fundy, and I’m a witch, or ‘wizard’ if you’re stuck up.”

“He’s also a furry,” a younger boy on the other side of the room added. 

“I AM NOT!” he screamed, causing Techno to flinch even more violently. 

“Fundy,Tommy, stop screaming!” Bad yelled before burying his face in his hands and sighing. “Tommy, since you’re so eager to talk, why don’t you go next?” 

“Sure!” Tommy stood up, noticeably bouncing on his feet. “I’m Tommy Innit, the strongest blaze fusion in all the land! I’m also way better than Dream, who is a bitch boy.” 

Said man in question scoffed loudly across the room. Techno wondered how old this kid was to be allowed to swear so causally. 

“Language!” 

“Oh shut it you little-”

“Tubbo, please, introduce yourself,” Bad asked in the tone of a defeated man. 

“Oh-um-right!” A transparent boy with a green tint stood up. “I’m Tubbo! I’m a slime and I’m also a lawyer!” 

“What?” 

“He’s the closest thing we have,” Wilbur corrected. 

“Um..”another man stood up, with arms that became pure black at the fingertips… and for some reason he was wearing 3-d glasses? “I’m Jack. Jack Manifold. I’m an enderman. Me, Tubbo, Tommy, Fundy, and Wilbur make up L’manberg!” 

“I still don’t know what that is but ok.”

Dream opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get his thought out Wilbur stood up. 

“We are a group of soldiers dedicated to fighting to fighting for the rights of every resident in this house-”

“You guys just wanna sell drugs,” a boy in sunglasses replied. 

“Thank you for your very helpful addition,  _ George,”  _ Wilbur said, looking about a second away from strangling someone. “But no. That’s just Tommy.” 

“Wh-Hey!” 

Another boy in a white headband snickered. 

“Can we please move on already?” Skeppy asked from the other side of the room. “ I’m soooo bored..”

“Ugh, ok, I’ll finish this up,” Dream said, pushing himself off the couch. He pointed to the other three boys, all standing up as he said their names. “That’s George, he’s a ghast. Next to him is Snapnap, who is a blaze. And that’s Eret, who’s a phantom. He only really looks different at night though.” He smiled as he turned back to Techno. “We make up the Dream Team.  _ We  _ are fighting for some peace in this goddamn place.” 

“No, you’re just fighting so you can rule this house with an iron fist.” 

“That’s better than your hallways filled with crime and drugs!”

Phil sighed, slowly backing away from the middle of the room and the two arguing factions. 

“It’s not a crime if we don’t have any laws!”

“Tommy, no, that’s not-”

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about. You people-”

Techno let the argument drown out behind them as he watched Phil and Skeppy slowly come over to him. 

“Techno, you said you had a plan to stop this fighting?”

“...Yeah.”

“I’d like it sooner rather than later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you once again for reading!


	3. You'll See The Glittering Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno forms a plan. It works. In a way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing brain go brrrrr
> 
> Anyways, i completey forgot that i didn't include techno's fusion and then got surprised when people were confused. Don't worry, that info will be out soon. (: 
> 
> Also, side note: not all of these chapters are gonna be techno based. There are a lot of backstory arcs im writing as well. After this introduction is finished, we'll get on to skeppy and bads origin (:.

Techno was surprised at how quickly the two arguing factions left the room. Well, they didn’t leave so much as George broke a hole through a wall by screaming and L’manberg (which, by the way, he still had no idea what they were) took that as a sign of fighting before everyone ran through the hole and left the remaining four standing around in the living room. 

Techno’s eyes remained focused on the hole in the wall. These two groups weren’t the smartest, but their strength couldn’t be denied. Zombies were well known for their endurance and their tenacity. Blazes could cause tons of damage very quickly. Witches were terrifying for their combined knowledge of both spells and potions, not to mention their natural talent for both. 

His thoughts were interrupted by Skeppy growing to full size before falling onto the slightly burnt couch. 

“You know,” the vex started. “I thought this whole fighting thing was funny at first, but at this point even I’m going to go insane.” 

“Well maybe if you hadn’t egged them on, it wouldn’t have gotten this bad,” Bad countered. 

“I know you two are just messing around,” Phil interrupted. “But if you guys start arguing I might actually kill someone.”

Bad and Skeppy’s eyes slowly slid to Techno expectantly. He sighed. This was going to be a long day. 

“So, the library is unclaimed territory right?” 

“Yeah,” Skeppy answered. “Though to be honest, no one knows how they ‘claim’ territory so maybe not.” 

Techno inwardly cringed. Not off to a great start. 

“Well, why do most people go to the library?”

“For… the…books?” 

“Right. But if you went to the library and there were no books, you’d be pretty mad, right?” 

“Yeah…”

“So, if L’manberg or Dream or whoever went into the library and there were no books, they’d instantly be mad right?” 

“...And they’d blame the other side almost instantly!” Bad finished.

“Right. And they’d start fighting or whatever. So then-”

“We steal the treasures!” Phil yelled out, looking a lot happier at the realization. 

“...Treasures?” Techno asked. 

“Yeah!” Skeppy said, pushing himself off the couch as his face brightened up. “L’manberg has these music discs they treasure above everything else. And the Dream Team have the remains of their pets-”

“Jesus chirst that’s morbid-”

“-that they love as well! If we can use the chaos caused by the library to take those, we’ll hold power above both of them. We might be able to stop the fighting! Or at the very least, do something.”

“It just might work,” Bad said, a smile slowly growing on his face. 

“...Yeah, that sounds better than my plan.”

“Wait, what was your original plan?”

Techno looked towards the ground, kicking at the dust. “... May or may not have involved kidnapping and hostage situations.”

A silence fell over the group as Techno regretted having the ability to speak. 

“You know,” Skeppy started, causing Techno to jerk his head up. “I wasn’t sure about you at first, but I think we’re gonna get along just fine.”

Techno nervously smiled. “We better get to work. The books aren’t gonna steal themselves.”

* * *

Fundy ran through the halls as quietly as he could, quietly regretting that he hadn’t brewed up any invisibility potions sooner. He was heading straight into unclaimed territory, meaning he could be attacked at any time and taken in as a hostage. 

He silently creeped around the corner, looking over his shoulder. He was so close to the library. He couldn’t be caught now. 

He stared at the library door. So close…

He ducked under the couch on the side of the hallway, slowly but surely inching closer to the door. 

He took a deep breath, crawled out from underneath the couch and pushed the door open. 

Only to see empty shelves stretch out in front of him. 

Fundy stared, not even processing what had happened before a sudden wave of rage overtook him. 

Of course Dream would do this. Not even bothered to fight for land, so he just took everything useful in it and just left it there to give them false hope. Or maybe to gloat. Either one would fit at this point. 

His hands balled into fists as he slowly backed out of the empty room. Dream had pulled plenty of questionable moves over the course of the war, but this had to take the cake. 

It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be getting away this time, not if L’manberg had anything to say about it. 

* * *

“Do you think they’ll kill each other?” Bad asked as he fiddled with one of the music discs. 

Skeppy shrugged as they listened to the sound of fighting echo throughout the house. “Maybe. I wonder if they’re fighting over the books or the treasures though.” 

The four had holed up in a guest room that had enough room for them to shove the books onto the shelves. The treasures had been scattered on the floor (Techno insisted they put the remains of pets in the chest though; it creeped him out wayyy too much) and they all agreed to sit there until the rest of the house figured out what was going on. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they haven’t even noticed the discs going missing,” Phil mused. “They go 100% over things that don’t even matter. I nearly died while the sides were trying to claim the smallest hallway in this damn place.”

Techno rolled two more of said discs around, watching with a bored expression as they toppled onto each other. “This is fun and all, but can we hurry this along? Like, play one of the discs or something? 

“Oh yeah, good idea!” Bad jumped off the bed, and grabbed a random music disc from the pile. He quickly dropped it in the jukebox, and a slow jazz tune began to spread through the air. 

“...What’s this song called?”

“I think it’s… Stahl?”

“Oh, that’s why it sounded awful.”

“Skepp-

Their banter was interrupted by the entirety of L’manberg bursting through the door at that moment, and Techno had no doubt the Dream Team was close behind. 

“What the fuck?!” Tommy screeched, eyes filled with a fire he had only seen in the nether. 

“Phil, how could you?!” Wilbur yelled. 

Phil shot up from the bed. “ Don’t ‘how could you’ me! I have put up with your fighting for months, Wilbur! I have watched as you and Dream ravaged this mansion over and over again! I’m honestly surprised I put up with this for so long!”

Wilbur was stunned into silence. Dream shoved the drowned aside. “That’s great and all, but why’d you take the treasures? I thought you didn’t want to get your hands dirty?” His voice dropped to that same terrifying tone he had used on Techno the same before, but there was much more malice in his voice than before. 

Bad didn’t seem phased at all. “We want control. We’ve been letting you guys dictate how things work around here for too long.”

Whispers flew through the warring factions as Bad proposed his plan. “Here’s the deal. In order to end this war once and for all, I suggest a duel.”

“We already tried that,” Tommy said. “It didn’t work.”

“It  _ did  _ work. You guys just lost so you didn’t like it,” Snapnap argured. 

“No. A threeway sparring duel. 4 people from each group will participate. Each round, each team will volunteer one person. Whichever team had the most points wins.”

Dream titled his head. “How do we take out the other teams?”

Bad paused for a bit. Techno was surprised he hadn’t thought this all out, considering that had at no point discussed any of this. 

“If you pin an opponent down for ten seconds, then they’re out. We’ll have… someone from L’manberg be the referee-”

“-Rigged!”

“-because they have five members while everyone else has four. Deal?”

A silence filled the room. 

“We’ll do it,” Wilbur said after a few minutes of silence. 

“Willbur, we can’t, we ca-”

“We’ll find a way.” 

Dream shrugged. “I mean, sure. Don’t know why you guys are handing us this win on a silver platter, but sure. Whatever.”

Bad cocked an eyebrow. “Friday then?’ 

A murmur of agreement swept through the room. Slowly but surely, the others began to trickle out of the room until the original four were left alone once again. 

The moment it was the four of them, Bad’s entire leader persona dissipated and he collapsed on the bed. 

“Nice, Bad!” Skeppy yelled, giving his friend a slap on the back. “If I didn’t know you, I would’ve thought you were a competent leader!”

“Aww, thanks Ske- Hey!”

Techno smiled slightly. This was.. Nice. Not the best but nice. 

His eyes fell on Phil, who was stretching his wings across the room. The blonde eventually turned his eyes to him. 

“Say, Techno, how good are you fighting?”

Techno couldn’t help the smile from growing even bigger. “I’d thought you’d never ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading seriously this sotry is blowing up way more than i thought it would holy shit-
> 
> thank you to everyone who left comments as well, they really motivate me!


	4. But You'll Shine Brighter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The duel begins. Techno tells the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY FUCK HOW DID I GET ALMOST 4K WORDS OUT HOLY SHIT-
> 
> i dunno what god possessed me today but i mean i ain't complaining. 
> 
> This chapter was so much fun to write, if not pretty difficult. This was my first time ever writing an action scene, so if you have any feedback, please let me know! 
> 
> Also, if you have any oneshot requests for this au, feel free to leave them in the comments! I'd really like to hear your ideas!
> 
> Also also, shameless plug time, im @justanotherperson456 on tumblr, if you wanna check out my reblogs and occasional shitposts.

Techno stretched his arms as he headed into the dojo. The final duel was tomorrow, and he could see it. Barely anyone talked to anyone outside of their team. Any friendly greetings were replaced with harsh glances and stares. Despite knowing this was for peace, Techno couldn’t help but feel the house getting ten times more intense with each passing day. 

He scanned the room. It had mainly been unaffected by the duel, considering it was in the left wing. Only a couple dents here and there. 

“....And… huzzah!”

Techno turned to the right side of said dojo, spotting Wilbur throwing his trident repeatedly at a barely patched together punching bag. The bag had red circles painted on it, which Techno guessed to be targets. The drowned was not hitting the targets in the slightest, judging by the holes in the bag. 

“You know, when you’re throwing your weapon, you’re supposed to be actually aiming it.”

Wilbur turned and shot a dirty look at him. Techno managed to keep his face expressionless, disinterestedly staring at the ruined bag. 

“I would be able to focus if there wasn’t ‘peacekeeping’ _scum_ like you waltzing around.”

Techno let a small laugh to cover for the violent flinch he had at the word scum. ‘ _It was just a joke, Techno. Calm down, you stupid senstive idiot.’_

That didn’t seem to work for Wilbur, who’s gaze softened a little. “You’ve barely been here for like, 3 days. How’d you decide to go with the peacekeepers in that time?”

Techno shrugged, silently thankful for the topic change. “The house looked like a murder house. I don’t like living in a murder house.”

Wilbur snorted. “Fair enough. Most of that blood was Dream’s, just so you know. You could stab that green fucker 50 times over and he’d still get up and kick your ass.” 

“I’m surprised you’ve hit him even once, considering your aim.”

“Wow-ok. Now you’re just being rude.” The smile on Wilbur’s face said otherwise. “But still, I must commend you. Walking into a house and joining the middle ground in a war right after? Quite brave, if not foolish.”

“Not really. It was more like, ‘do I wanna break this house that I just moved into or do I want to have a goodnight’s sleep?”

Wilbur snorted. “Why’d you come here anyways?”

Techno sighed, looking over at the weapon’s shelf. “Skeppy kinda dragged me here. I figured I could stay here for a few days and-”

“Wait, hold on a second.” Techno looked to his side to see Wilbur having somehow moved way closer in the last ten seconds. “A few days?” 

Techno blinked. “...Yeah?”

Wilbur let out a strangled, painful laugh. “Oh you poor fool. You think you’re getting out, don’t you? How cute.” 

Techno stared at the other, trying to process what was happening. He… _was_ leaving, right? Unless they chained him to a wall or something, he couldn’t see why not. But the way Wilbur was-

And the zombie had already left, leaving Techno to ponder his fate in silence. 

* * *

The day of the duel arrived. Or dusk, rather, due to Eret’s insistence (“I will not be handicapped because of you sun dwellers,” he said, to which Skeppy responded “Ok introvert.”)

Techno met up with the rest of the residents in the outer courtyards of the mansion. There was a small garden-area-thing that Bad had gotten set up in the past two days just for the duel. The sun was low, giving the sky a pink and red tint as clouds idly floated past. 

He walked over to his team, hearing Skeppy and Bad animatedly argue about which one was the better fighter while Phil joined in with the occasional laugh and quip. Techno gulped. 

“So, do we got this or not?” he asked as he joined them, eyeing the other teams suspiciously. 

“I mean…” Bad trailed off. “I think we have a good chance, considering that every fight is only worth one point, but still. There’s also a good chance we can easily lose too, sooo…”

Skeppy shoved him aside. “We basically are rolling a dice that has lose on every side except one.”

“You have the weirdest ways of saying things, dude,” Phil snorted as he watched Jack approach the field, serving as the referee.

“Is everyone ready?!” the enderman yelled. 

“I mean, I think so-”

“Then let’s get ready to rumble!”

Slowly, the three teams approached the center field. 

“I still think this is rigged-”

“Oh my god, _shut up_ Dream,” Wilbur shot down the zombie’s complaint. “We don’t have time to listen you whine about a fucking referee. Chill the fuck out.” 

Dream pouted, but kept silent. Bad muttered something about ‘language’.

“Uhh… Bad, what are the rules again?”

“Oh my goodness, Jack- Does everyone else remember the rules?” 

A wave of nods swept through the three teams. 

“Ok, let’s all just move on. I don’t think anyone here’s gonna cheat-”

“He says with Skeppy right next to him-”

“Tommy, please shut up. You’re the second most likely to cheat, after me of course.” The vex replied. He was quickly met with dozens of angry glares. 

“Ok, ok!” He raised his hands up in mock surrender. “I swear on my own grave, I won’t cheat.”

“Your own grave?”

“Yeah, I’m kinda dead.”

“What-”

“Moving on!” Jack yelled. “First round duelists, please step forward!” 

Phil, Fundy, and Eret stepped forward. It wasn’t… that bad of a matchup. Phil was quite good at fighting, from what little he had seen. Fundy hadn’t spent any time in the dojo, so Techno couldn’t make a proper assessment of him. Eret was a little above average, but Techno could have been wrong about him as well.   
  


The fight was long. Eret and Phil stayed off the ground for most of it, which Fundy had already prepared for with tipped arrows. Techno shuddered as he saw Eret get hit with an instant damage arrow straight through the wing. Phantom wings were quite flexible, but not as sturdy as dragons, and his point was proven right when Eret crashed himself into the ground and out fo the fight. 

Phil put up a much better fight. He’d swoop in at times, and was constantly moving enough to be hard to hit. When he got hit in the shoulder, he simply pulled it out and fired it right back. Listening to Fundy screech as the arrow pierced his knee got a laugh out of the non-L’manberg crowd. 

Still, Phil couldn’t stay up forever. When Fundy pulled out his nausea arrows, it was only a matter of time before Phil fell as well. 

_‘1 point to L’manberg.’_

Phil apologized afterwards, muttering something about disowning a grandson. Meanwhile, Fundy was shouting some insults at the Dream Team, about how it ‘really was meant to be’ which made Eret go bright red. 

“This could’ve been you, Eret!” Wilbur yelled. “You had your chance to be a part of the winning team, and you threw it!”

“What are they talking about?”

“I think Eret betrayed them or something. He switched to the Dream Team and it really hurt them.”

“Ouch.” 

The duel carried on. The next round was Tubbo, George, and Bad. 

And well, it was a massacre. 

Which was good for his team. Jack had barely signaled start before Bad started summoning his vexes; which evoked plenty of screams from George. Tubbo was doing his best to keep the number of vexes down but it was for naught. Whenever the other two had a chance to breathe, Bad simply summoned some of those floating mouth things (magic floor crocodiles? He was going with magic floor crocodiles) to bite and keep them off balance, before summoning even more. 

Techno couldn’t even get a good read of the other two’s fighting style before they were on the ground from exhaustion. Needless to say, Bad had won the duel. 

“That,” the evoker said after the duel had ended. “Was for _months_ of repairing broken walls and patching up injuries.”

“That was beautiful, wasn’t it?” Skeppy elbowed him as the other teams helped their comrades off the field. 

“Yeah,” Techno responded. “It sure was… something.” 

“Bad’s terrifying when he wants to be,” Phil added.

They moved onto the next round after the other teams had finished their pep talks. This time, it consisted of Skeppy, Snapnap, and Wilbur. 

This was the closest match out of all of them (considering what happened in the last round, it wasn’t saying much, but still.) Wilbur’s aim had improved slightly, though not enough to stop Skeppy, who was maneuvering through the airborne tridents and the fireballs Snapnap was throwing as well. When the two had decided Skeppy was more trouble than he was worth, they turned to each other. 

It was clear that Wilbur, while he talked big, was not the best fighter. Still, he managed to tire Snapnap out quite a bit before falling to the ground ungracefully and getting out of the fight. Skeppy tried to go in and finish the blaze off, but at that point something in him snapped (haha, Snapnap, get it?) and he started setting the whole arena on fire. 

Skeppy had to fly away into the clear air where Snapnap could clearly see him. The moment the blaze had pulled out his bow, it was over. 

So, it was a 1-1-1. 

And the next round decided everything. 

And it was his round. 

Wonderful. 

“Ok, so, everything we’ve worked towards leads up to this,” Skeppy told him. “So just don’t die, and it’ll be fine!”

“No pressure,” he muttered to himself. 

Bad shoved Skeppy out of the way. “You’re not helping. Look, Dream’s probably one of the best fighters we’ve got here. Tommy’s…. Ok. I’d suggest staying out of the way and letting them tire each other out.” 

Techno nodded. He had seen Dream fight a little bit before. He was quick on his feet, and always used the environment around him to his advantage. He hadn’t really paid much attention to Tommy’s fights, but if he fought anything like Snapnap, he was not in for a fun time. 

He swallowed down his anxiety as he walked towards the field. The other two were already there, both with a look of confidence on their faces. However, the closer he got, he couldn’t help but notice Tommy’s shaking hands or Dream’s mumbles to himself. 

Ok. Everyone else here was also super anxious. He could do this. He could totally do this. 

Jack looked nervously between of them, before raising his hand. “The final duel begins in… 

“3…” 

“2…”

“1…”

“Go!”

Dream lept at Tommy, who blocked it instantly. That didn’t stop the zombie though, continuously pushing into the younger as he steadied himself on the ground. 

Huh. They had seemingly forgotten he was there. Maybe Bad’s strategy would work. 

Eh. It was way too boring to just sit and watch. 

Techno shot forward, landing a kick on Dream’s side and a sword slash across Tommy’s chest. He ducked under the counter swing, aiming straight for the boy’s knees. Tommy fell, but set his hand ablaze on the way down, causing the grass to burn up as he clung to it. Techno retreated a bit, before turning around and seeing Dream headed right towards him. 

He dodged to the side, getting a block ready as Dream slowed himself down and swung right at him. Techno gritted his teeth. The zombie was much stronger than he looked. 

He dropped his guard, letting Dream stand there for a second in confusion, before aiming another kick straight at his ribs and pushing him into Tommy. 

Tommy didn’t dodge, pushing them both to the ground. The younger managed to shove him off, causing him to stumble a bit before finally regaining his balance. Dream was already up as well, gunning for Tommy once again. 

Tommy pulled out his bow. He reached for his arrows and set the tips on fire, aiming them straight at Dream. Unfortunately, Dream was much faster, and dodged every arrow he fired. 

Techno borrowed Tommy’s idea and pulled out his bow as well, aiming through the smoke and the burning grass around them. Right as Dream was about to strike Tommy, he aimed for the youngest’s chest and fired. 

The arrow hit it’s mark, and allowed Dream to get a strike in on his chest as well. Tommy stumbled back, the pain of both a sword strike and an arrow making him lose focus.   
  


But, the kid pushed himself back up as Dream changed his target to Techno, pulling out his bow and doing his best to aim despite how bad the smoke had gotten. His hand was shaking from the pain from his ribs. 

Techno didn’t wait around to get shot. He went around the growing fire, wondering if it would ever get put out. Dream predicted this, aiming his arrow right behind him, catching Techno in the shoulder. He hissed in pain, but didn’t slow down. Instead, he ran to the left, where a lot of the smoke was, protecting himself from another arrow. He aimed for Dream’s shoulder, and struck hard with his sword. 

Dream hissed, taking a few steps back until recovered. 

The fight continued on like that, with them switching between intense sword matches and bow duels. The fire eventually died out, making aiming much easier. 

The three were getting tired. They had been shot, stabbed, and slashed at. The wounds were getting pretty heavy at this point, especially on Tommy, who looked seconds away from passing out.

Techno smirked. Time to play his trump card. 

He backed off from the other two, trying to find a patch of grass that wasn’t completely burned away. Dream noticed him trying to distance himself from the other two and ran after him, planning to get an extra sword strike and take him down. 

Instead, Techno turned around right as he striked, and grabbed his arm. Dream attempted to pull away, before spotting a strange black substance spreading down his arm. 

He _shrieked._ Techno winced a little. Dream managed to pull himself away, clutching his arm like a lifeline. “What did you do?!” 

Techno gulped. He went too far, didn’t he? He was going to be kicked out. They were going to hate him, they were going to hunt him and-

_‘Stay focused. You’re in a fight right now,’_ he whispered to himself. 

“Y...you’re not a skeleton, are you?” Dream asked, heaving for air in between each word.

“Wh- but you said-” 

“You see Tommy,” he interrupted, slipping back into his villain persona. “I used an advanced technique called _lying_.” 

And with that, Techno launched himself at Dream with renewed strength, tackling him to the ground. Dream on the other hand, barely had enough strength to struggle. And before he knew it…

“8...9...10! Dream is out!”

Techno got off as quick as he could, praying to whatever god that was out there that he wasn’t going to get kicked out. He was enjoying himself for once. He wanted to _stay_ for once. 

Dream picked himself up, eyes never leaving Techno. Techno stared back, trying to convey ‘sorry’ through eye contact alone, which was especially difficult considering he didn’t have eyes. 

He did have ears though, and the loud stomping from behind him told him that Tommy was getting ready for a free hit. 

He turned around and blocked, correctly predicting an upper strike from the other. Tommy hit the ground, still dizzy from all of his other injuries, and Techno stabbed his sword straight through the side of his shirt. 

Jack slowly started counting. But at that point, it didn’t matter. 

Everyone knew Techno had won. 

Techno pulled the sword out. This had exhausted him way more than he expected. If he didn’t get kicked out, he might want to stay just to-

“So uh, what exactly was that magic trick you pulled there?”

Techno turned to see Dream and his friends all staring at him, varying degrees of anger in their eyes. Dream looked rather curious than anything, while Snapnap looked about ready to murder him. 

“I...I’m not a skeleton.” 

“Yeah, we got that much.”

Techno sighed. “I’m… a wither.”

“...Those exist?” Tommy asked. 

“Wh-no, they don’t exist. I am merely a hologram that defeated you because I’m the start of the AI revolution. Fear me.” 

“I knew it.” 

“Wait-” Dream stared at his arm. “You put the wither on me? I remember it being described as way worse than just a black stain for a couple minutes. Like doesn’t it eat away at the flesh?” 

Techno shrugged. “It only does that if you want the person dead. Most withers want everything dead.” 

“Fair enough.”

“And you didn’t tell us this before because…?” Bad asked. 

Techno flinched. He knew it was stupid, he knew that they wouldn’t understand, he knew-

“I… don’t like people asking me questions about me. I-I mean not like you did. But like, when people ask questions, they want you to talk. And talking means I could say something wrong. And they could get mad. And they could-”

“Hey, hey, chill.” Phil put his hand on his shoulder, but unlike every other time, he didn’t flinch away. “We’re not gonna get mad. I mean, you gave everyone here a heart attack when you pulled that wither trick, but it’s fine! Everything's fine.”

Techno stared at him, trying to process everything. “...So… I’m not getting kicked out.” 

“No.”

“And… and no one’s mad?” 

“I mean,” George said, “Dream might be a little salty, but that’s just because he’s Dream.”

“Shut _up_ , George.” 

Techno snickered. “So… we won?”

“Yeah! We won!” 

Skeppy and Bad’s cheers echoed over everything else. Techno just stared at Phil, who smiled before patting him on the back. “You did great.”

“....Thanks.”

“Wait…” Tommy said. “Technically, because Dream was out before me, does that mean L’manberg won?”

“Wh- that is not how this works-”

“SUCK IT GREEN BOY!” Wilbur yelled. 

"Hey, I-"

“Sorry, all I can hear is third place talk!” Jack yelled right after. 

Techno silently leaned on Phil, closing his eyes and smiling. 

Maybe… he could stay. 

For a little while, at least. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to GhostBlackBlood for guessing Techno as a wither and giving me a heart attack-  
> next chapter is Skeppy and Bad's origin! That'll take two chapters at least, and it does get pretty bloody, so I'd be careful! But after that it's still up in the air.


	5. And When You Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skeppy learns the truth about bad. (Skeppy & Bad Origins: Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think ive somehow appeased the motivation god because im writing way more and its a lot easier than it used to be. all hail the writing god or whatever. 
> 
> Like always, if you have a request for me to do in this au, please let me know! I love reading your ideas!
> 
> Also TW: There is gun violence in this chapter. No blood is mentioned however. Someone is shot though.

Skeppy was born in a small town, where everyone knew everyone.

It wasn’t a bad place to grow up, at least to him. He had friends, he had dreams, he had a job.

Granted, he wasn’t exactly thrilled about the job, but still. There were worse things than working at a bakery, with his best friend no less.

Said best friend was cleaning up behind the counter of said bakery, grumbling as usual. Skeppy slid into the building, a good 5 minutes late to work, which was a new record for him.

“Hey Bad!”

“Wh-Oh Skeppy! You’re almost on time!”

“I know. I’ve lost my touch.”

“Skeppy, that’s a good thing you muffin!”

Skeppy giggled as Bad started off on another rant. This was what their relationship had been like, ever since they were kids. Teasing, yelling, ranting… it was Skeppy’s ideal friendship.

Then he noticed something off about the other’s attire.

“Hey Bad, when did you start wearing long sleeve shirts?”

He stopped ranting, mouth opening and closing like a fish underwater.

“I...uh… I’m getting cold! Fall’s coming, ya know, haha…”

“Bad, it’s July. We just went through a heatwave.”

Bad cringed, reflexively clutching his arm. He was avoiding Skeppy’s gaze.

“...Bad, I swear to god-”

“Guys! Guys! Guys!”

They both turned to the sound of the front door jingling. Skeppy blinked as he saw their friend, Finn, run into the tiny shop.

“Finn? What are you..?”

“Oh hey Finn! What’s-”

Finn looked like he had run a marathon, his hair in a mess and everything. The other two stared at him. Finn worked on the opposite side of town. Why was he here?

“You guys! You won’t believe this!”

Bad and Skeppy stared at him expectantly.

“So you know, that war hero dude? Clay?”

“...Yeah? He died a while ago.”

Clay had been an iconic war hero during their warring times. He was said to leave no man behind, that those who saw him ran in fear, and those who didn’t were never seen again. Many fellow soldiers noted him as a charming and humorous person, though there were plenty of rumors of him being sadistic and cruel to anyone who disagreed.

After tensions between other empires calmed, Clay disappeared from the public eye. Some say he became a mercenary, some say he went to explore, some say he started a religion. Rumors and stories spread about him until his body was found with a stab wound through the chest, surrounded by a burned down forest.

No one knew what happened. No one knew who killed him. And no one would ever know.

“Well…” Finn started. “There’s been some rumors that the emperor did one of those uh ‘ressurection things’ where they brought him back as a zombie?”

“They did what?!” Bad shrieked. “That’s-that’s so-”

“Weird? Yeah. Especially since he's been cracking down on mob fusions a lot more.”

Skeppy’s eyes flicked between the other two. “Ok but, what does that have to do with us?”

Finn stared at him. “Oh uh right. They kinda… lost track of him. He could be running around murdering people right now.”

Bad put his head in his hands. “I can’t… why?!”

Skeppy tilted his head. “I mean, just because he’s a zombie doesn’t mean-”

“That’s exactly what it means, Skeppy! They’re braindead! All they know is their next meal!” Bad yelled.

Skeppy flinched away. “Ok, ok, jeez…” He turned to Finn. “Was he seen near here?”

Finn nodded. “Yeah, like, 2 towns over. I’d be careful if I were you.”

Bad gulped. “Oh my goodness- Skeppy, should we move? Should we stay inside until it’s caught? I-I’ve never-”

“Bad, calm down!” Skeppy yelled. “He’s probably not even headed in this direction. We’re fine!”

“Yeah… yeah you’re right. I just…” Bad took a deep breath. “I need to calm down.”

“You want me to handle the front today?”

Bad stared at him as if he had lost his mind. “You hate customer service though.”

Skeppy shrugged. “How bad can it be?”

Bad looked off to the side, clearly trying to avoid the question. Finn started laughing his head off.

“Oh would you look at that, I’ve just received a sudden ‘skip work’ day notification from my boss. Just in time to see Skeppy deal with Karens and Kyles,” Finn giggled as he looked at his watch.

“Fuck off Finn.”

“Language!”

And just like that, the rest of the day fell into place.

* * *

  
Turns out, customer service was okay. Aside from Finn’s commentary and the occasional vegan demanding their food to be gluten free, of course.

Skeppy still couldn’t wait to be finished though. He practically jumped over the counter and ran out the door, flipping the ‘closed’ sign on the way out.

The evening air was cool and crisp and Skeppy rushed past down the streets, passed his tired friends and fellow citizens. His day was not done, not yet.

After about 10 minutes of running down the street, he came to a clearing where he watched Bad practice.

The sound of a gunshot rang through the field. Skeppy smirked. There he was.

And he took off again, towards the sound of Bad’s practice.

He arrived at their usual meeting ground, with targets set up in different places and with different colors. Bad had insisted on having a little variety in his targets after he got 3rd place in the last competition.

The man in question was staring hard at the straight on targets today, just a row of red circle boards in plain sight, no obstruction or anything. Skeppy looked at the beaten up boards as Bad reloaded again.

“4 bullseyes, 6 hits and 5 misses…. I’m guessing it’s an off day?” he asked, staring pointledy at Bad’s shaking hands.

Bad jumped, twirling around with the rifle still in hand. “You muffin! You scared the living daylights out of me!”

Skeppy rolled his eyes at Bad’s unique vocabulary. “You always say that, and I always reply with the same thing: You’re the one with the gun.”

Bad pouted. “Look, don’t act like holding a gun makes me stronger than you.”

“But… that’s exactly what it does.”

“You have a shameful lack of knowledge about automatic weapons. This-”

And just like that, Skeppy was subjected to another rant, this time about guns. He didn’t mind. It was the basis of their friendship, after all. But he listened to this one closer than usual.

The thing about Bad is that his rants tended to turn into him speaking out everything that was going through his head. Including things he’d rather keep secret from Skeppy. Including things that were bothering him.

Eventually, after a long winded explanation about guns and strength that turned into zombie games, he found what he was looking for.

“-and the fact that there’s now a zombie running around that knows how to kill a dozen people in a minute doesn’t help! I mean, I know he was alive at one point, but he’s braindead now! I wonder if all fusions are like that. People certainly act like it! I mean, if every mob fusion is evil and sin or whatever, then what does that make me-”

That… caught Skeppy off guard. “Wait.”

Bad snapped his head towards him. “H-huh?”

“Are you a mob fusion? Cuz what you just said-”

Skeppy froze as he watched all the color drain out of his friend’s face. Shit, he thought. Time to backtrack.

“Bad I-”

“Yes.” He looked down at the ground. “But Skeppy please, I promise you, I won’t hurt anyone. Please, I need-”

“I never said that!” Skeppy yelled, panic seeping into his voice. “I was just so worried about you because you were acting off all day and I’m your friend and we’ve been friends for so long I thought you would…” he paused to catch his breath. “I thought you knew me enough to know I’d never do that to you.”

Bad looked on the verge of tears. He turned away, staring at the targets behind him.

“I’m an… evoker, I think.”

“A what.”

Bad let out a hollow laugh. Bad wasn’t supposed to laugh like that. Bad’s laughs were full of life and cheeriness and-

“Evokers are like illagers. You know the ones that go around and kill innocent people just for the thrill of it? Yeah, they’re cousins or something. Expect they have magic. I can summon these little things called ‘vexes’ that fly around and attack whoever I want. Not to mention the fact that I can also turn the floor into a mosh pit of disembodied crocodile mouths. Fun right?” Another sad chuckle. “ I don’t wanna hurt anyone, Skeppy. But-”

“You won’t.”

“Skeppy-”

“If you don’t want to hurt people, then you won’t. It’s not rocket science.”

“You don’t know that,” he muttered, sounding defeated.

“I know you! Isn’t that enough?” he yelled, grabbing his shirt. Bad yelped, dropping his gun. Something flashed through his head. “Wait. Why were you covering your arms then?”

Bad pulled away, and nervously pulled up his sleeve. Skeppy gasped. There was a grey patch along his arm, stretching from the tips of his arms all the way to the edge of his shoulder.

“Holy fuck…”

“Language!”

“Don’t ‘language’ me now, you muffin. This is serious! Someone's gonna notice and-”

“Uh… about that….”

Skeppy stared blankly at him. “Someone already did, didn’t they?”

Bad had the decency to look guilty. “I didn’t mean to! She was just being really loud and mean and I accidentally summoned some vexes but I was panicking!”

“Christ, Bad. Where is she now?”

“Uh…”

“Bad - We need to get out of here, and fast.”

“Wh- What do you mean, ‘we’?”

Skeppy huffed. “ If you think I’m leaving you alone because you can summon floor crocodiles and you have grey skin, you’ve got another thing coming.”

* * *

  
And that’s how they ended up on a trek through the woods, both carrying their own camping bags. Skeppy trailed behind Bad a little, making sure no one was following them.

“You really didn’t have to come, you know,” Bad reminded him for the 100th time.

“If you say that one more time, I’ll smack you across the face,” Skeppy snapped back.

Bad chuckled again, less sad this time. The rest of the trip was silent.

Eventually, they reached a quiet clearing. The night had risen at this point, and the moon loomed over the trees like a terrifying monster just waiting for their back to turn.

Skeppy sighed as they set up their tents. “If you do run far away and you never come back… can you write to me?”

Bad looked at him, a guilty flash filling his eyes. “I’m sorry Ske-

“Just answer the question. “

“...Yes. I’ll write to you as much as I can.”

“Cool. Though I’d like it a lot more if you stayed here…”

“...Me too.”

Skeppy pulled out the map they had brought along. “I’ll stay with you till we cross the Bluewright River, then you’ll have to go on your own, kay?”

Bad place the finishing touches on their tent. “Thanks for coming out here with me. I wasn’t sure what to do back there.”

Skeppy shrugged. “I don’t care if you’re a person or mob fusion, you’re my friend and that’s never gonna change.”

Bad smiled again, the sadness finally leaving his face. He opened his mouth to say something, before they both heard some rustling in the bushes. They both froze, eyes locking as they heard a voice approaching them.

“I know that boy was a hybrid. But did they believe me? No! Instead they just-”

A woman broke into the clearing, a gun in one hand and a hiking stick with the others. Her eyes went from mild annoyance to full blown hatred once they landed on Bad.

The world was quiet for all of five seconds. Then she dropped the stick and put her hand on the muzzle of the gun.

“You.”

Skeppy had never heard such condensed hatred shoved into one word. He put his hands out. “Lady, calm down, we’re trying-”

“He tried to kill me!” the woman shrieked. “I’m not letting him have a second chance!”

Bad whimpered, and at that point Skeppy’s instincts took over.

The sound of the gun firing was the only thing that really registered in his brain. Everything else was a blur, until he was lying on the ground with a stabbing pain in his chest.

Then the world became a flurry of screams and changing scenes, like a disc getting stuck in a player. He couldn’t process anything except _hurt hurt hurt make it stop make it stop oh god please-_

He was under a tree. The sky was dark. Someone was holding him, and water was falling like…

“B-Bad?”

“Skeppy, it’s me. Skeppy, please stay strong. I don’t where we are right now but-”

“H-hey. Bad, slow down. Was I shot?”

Bad stopped running and the world stopped being a blur. They were far from camp, somewhere that he didn’t recognize.

Bad fell to the ground, and put Skeppy up against a tree. “ I-I can’t… I don’t know where the way out is… where are we-”

Skeppy stared blankly. He was going to die. _Holy fuck, he was going to die._

“Hey uh, Bad. If I die-”

“You’re not dying!”

“If I die, take care of yourself, kay?”

Bad stopped whatever he was going to say, tears filling his eyes instead. Skeppy noticed the greyness had spread to his shoulders.

_Holy fuck, I’m dying and all I can think about is how grey Bad’s skin is._

“Skeppy-”

“If you say sorry one more time, I will haunt you.”

Bad’s laugh had gone sad again. Skeppy didn’t like sad laughs, but it would have to do.

“Oh wait- I know!”

Even as the world started to fuzz out again, he could still feel something pushing against his chest.

“B-bad...please…” his voice was breaking, _he was croaking, he was dying and he couldn’t stop it, he was dying and he-_

“Skeppy, you’ll wake up! I promise you, you’ll wake up! Just please-”

Skeppy couldn’t hear the rest of what he was saying, as the darkness finally took over.

And soon, it was just Bad there, trying to restore a heartbeat that had long since gone dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can i get a *looks at list* angst with some uhhhh worldbuilding on the side with foreshadowing sauce and uhhh oh yeah a big sized drink of bro moments 
> 
> Thanks for reading (:


	6. You'll Find That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad recovers. Skeppy wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> asdlfk;djk im not super proud of this chapter but i wanted to get it out of the way-
> 
> Thank you again for the support! I joined an mcyt writing discord and theyve given me life so expect more writing soon. I'm also doing mcyt tober, but I'm not too sure how much ill complete cuz school and stuff sucks. 
> 
> this was almost 2k words
> 
> Also: TW for blood and gun violence. Also murder.

Bad stopped pushing at Skeppy’s chest eventually. His hands were shaking, the grass around him was wet and there was  _ blood oh god so much blood-  _

The grass and the bark of the tree were painted a stark red, standing out against the soft and dark night sky. 

Bad’s hands were entangled within the seams on Skeppy’s hoodie. They also had blood on them. 

Bad’s breath has calmed down a bit.  _ ‘Skeppy’s dead. Skeppy’s dead,’  _ are the only thoughts that ring through his mind as the rest of the world starts to act as if nothing happened. Birds were chirping, crickets were singing, and the moon continued to flow through the sky like a boat through water. 

It scared him. Skeppy was gone. His one rock throughout this whole mess was gone. He didn’t know what to do. What was there left to do? Where would he go? What was his life going to be like now that he was a fugitive? How would he-

_ ‘Take care of yourself, kay?’  _

Bad pushed himself off the forest ground. Mud and dirt were slathered over his clothes. He stared blankly at his hands, bruised and red. 

_ ‘Take care of yourself, kay?’  _

His hands balled up into fists. 

The sound of the woman’s yells echoed through the forest. Her angry shouting stirred something with him. She had killed an innocent man; someone who was just trying to help. There was not a sliver of regret or guilt in her voice. She didn’t even care. 

_ ‘Take care of yourself, kay?’  _

Bad didn’t know when he started summoning the vexes, but it didn’t bother him at that point. 

_ ‘Take care of yourself, kay?’  _

Her yells started to get closer. Her words resemble something about him being a disgusting fusion. 

_ ‘Take care of yourself, kay?’  _

He turned and started a straight path in her direction, not even bothering to hide his footsteps. 

_ ‘Take care of yourself, kay?’  _

And unbeknownst to the rest of the world, two people died in those woods that night. 

* * *

By morning, the vexes had vanished and Bad had made it to another clearing. He was still in the woods. Carrying a corpse was a lot harder than he thought (that’s a lie; he never thought about carrying a corpse, never thought he’d be carrying his  _ brother’s corpse-)  _ but he managed. He slipped the backpack on him just to make things easier. 

He couldn’t leave Skeppy there in the woods, where anything could happen. He deserved a hero’s grave; hell, a grave or some sort of burial. Maybe he’d like drifting down the river? Though that might be traumatizing for any kid walking by. Burning didn’t really seem like his style either. 

Burial was probably the safest bet. But that would have to wait. Bad made a promise to Skeppy, and he wasn’t going to break it. 

He gently let Skeppy down. He needed to clean his hands of blood. He sat down near a stream and let the water wash the red away. He knew he’d be seeing it in his nightmares, but he also wasn’t going to sleep until he was far, far away from anything resembling a human. 

As his hands were slowly cleaned, he looked up past the stream. There was something grey hidden by some of the trees. He narrowed his eyes. It was far too straight to be an entrance to a cave, and unless a giant stick of rock just decided to poke up from the earth one day, it definitely wasn’t natural. 

He rose up, taking a silent step over the stream. He knew that this was dangerous, that he could be killed at any moment- 

But something was pulling him closer. And he needed to know what. 

He looked over at Skepppy’s body, making sure it was still there. Then he took another step and looked past the trees. And gasped. 

There was a whole  _ mansion  _ out here. 

He walked past more of the trees, trying to get a better look at it. It was tall. At least three floors judging from the outside windows. The growing vines and moss made it clear that it had been abandoned for a very long time. 

It was beautiful. 

He could definitely move here. He could live here, far into the woods where no sane person would dare venture. He could sneak in and out of town easily. 

_ ‘He could’ve invited Skeppy over here as well, and they’d visit and then Skeppy would go back and live his normal life and not get shot because of him-’  _

Bad desperately tried to get his mind to shut up. He was dead, his brother was dead, but he needed to move  _ on.  _

So he took a deep breath, and walked inside the mansion. 

* * *

It needed a lot of repairs. He distracted himself from the outside world by making said repairs; fixing the water system and cleaning up the rugs (that were just as red as the blood on his hands that he couldn’t seem to  _ wash off-)  _ as well as patching up holes in the walls. The house was fully furnished, and it was clear that someone had lived in here, but whoever had was long gone. 

Those days passed by in a blur of Bad waking up, surviving off of berries and the small greenhouse he had found, fixing the house, and going back to sleep. He couldn’t remember any specific events from those days, and he was glad. 

The less he had to think, the better. 

One day, while he was repairing some of the broken shelves in the library, he noticed a heavy book about evoker magic. He stared at it for a while, noting just how dusty the cover was and how yellow some of the pages had turned. 

_ ‘Whatever,’  _ he thought. He could stand to sit around and read for a day. No one was paying him for these repairs or anything. He sat down on one of the less dusty armchairs and opened the book. 

The book explained how evokers came to be; a mix of illager and witch that could cast powerful spells like no one had ever seen. Bad wasn’t really interested in that part. He just wanted to know what kind of spells he could cast. 

He eventually got to a chapter about vexes. They were made up from lost souls, people who still weren’t done with the world. Despite how small they are, they could do a lot of damage if they needed to. They were known to be trickesters as well, with their ability of phasing through blocks allowing them to stalk and mess with many people. 

_ ‘Sounds like someone I knew…’ _

He flipped to the next page. Turns out there were many rituals involving the little pixies aside from summoning them. He could empower them, make them last longer, turn them invisible, place a soul in them- 

Wait, what? 

He flipped to the page that was listed for that ritual. 

_ ‘... The ritual of placing a soul within a vex is a way of reviving someone unique to evokers only. By placing a soul inside a vex, the soul not only has a body, but the magical powers that come with it. Of course, this body is still a vexes’, so it is easily broken. If you aren’t careful, a ‘soul vex’ as their call could be killed the same day you revive them.’  _

Bad’s hand started shaking. He could save Skeppy. He could bring him back, and fix it. Skeppy wouldn’t mind being a vex right? He did have the personality of one. He could fix this. 

* * *

It took Bad a little while to realize just how messed up the ritual was. 

He was sitting there, book in one hand, and a small dagger in the other. Skeppy’s body was laid out in front of him, with galactic letters written in his blood painted on each side of the room. Bad hoped if this did work, he’d at least have a chance to move Skeppy out of the room before he woke up. This would not be a pleasant sight to see after being brought back from the dead. 

“Ok, here goes nothing…”

He raised the knife above his head and closed his eyes as tight as he could. 

* * *

Skeppy felt a jolt, which was funny considering he wasn’t even aware of anything for a long time. 

It was a jolt of pain, right around the chest. He groaned. The world was still super blurry. What happened? He had found out Bad was evoker, and then was trying to get him away from town, and then…

Oh yeah. Then he got shot. 

Wait. How was he here if he got shot?

That thought jolted Skeppy out of his haze, and he pushed himself off the soft surface he was on. He was inside somewhere. A hospital? But it was way too dark to be a hospital. Didn’t hospitals have white walls or something? 

He blinked as he started to look around. Everything seemed way bigger than he was. The chairs, the tables, the rug and- 

“Oh my goodness, it actually worked!” 

Bad’s voice seemed way louder, like a voice descending from the heavens or something. 

He looked up only to see his best friend’s face floating above him. He stared at him for a second, before his brain kicked in. 

“What the fuck?!” 

“Ok, uh, oh no. Skeppy please calm down-”

Skeppy didn’t register any of his words. Bad was holding him in his hand. He was  _ super tiny.  _ Everything in the house had to be like, 10 times his size. 

“Why am I so small?! What is happening?! Bad what did you do?!” 

Skeppy jumped off his hand, using his wings to keep himself suspended while-

“When the fuck did I get wings?!” 

Bad sighed. “Ok, uh, Skeppy, I’ll explain everything as soon as you calm your muffinhead down!” 

“Dude, I’m the size of a muffin, how can I calm down?!” 

Skeppy continued on like that for five minutes, until he realized that randomly shouting questions wasn’t going to get them answered. Eventually, he allowed himself to catch his breath, and for Bad to explain everything that was happening. 

“So… I died.” 

“Yes.” 

“And you brought me back.” 

“Yes.”

“As a fairy.” 

Ye- No! As a vex, I already told you!” 

Skeppy giggled. Bad hadn’t changed that much, which was good. He mustn't have been dead for that long. 

“So uh- as vex, what do I do?” 

Bad frowned a bit, reaching for a book labeled ‘Evoker Magic’. “Well, you can fly through walls, and fly, duh. You can also grow yourself back up to normal size, I think.” 

“Oh thank god. I don’t think I could handle being like this for more than five minutes.” 

Skeppy stared at the floor. “Wait… how do I do that?”

Bad shrugged. “How am I supposed to know?” 

“You’re the one who made me like this!”

“Skeppy, I swear to-” 

And that was the start. But it was far, far, too soon for them to see that. 

* * *

Bad spent a lot of time staring at windows. 

Skeppy wanted to give the man space considering he literally  _ watched him die,  _ but this is getting ridiculous. 

It’d happen whenever there was silence. Which Skeppy was starting to hate more than gunshots. 

He’d stare out somewhere, eyes dull and grey as his skin. His mouth would slowly open and his hands would start tapping against something and Skeppy felt like he was going to lose his goddamn mind. 

So, he did the only thing he knew: be annoying. 

It was apparently in a vex’s nature to pull pranks. Maybe that’s why it was so much easier. 

Replacing his toothpaste, putting glue on random seats, that sick satisfaction he felt whenever he managed to pull Bad into one of his traps was unmatched. 

And maybe unwarranted. But hey, he died. He could be a little mean. 

Of course, Bad wasn’t having any of it. When he was relaxing on one of the many love seats in the library, the evoker stomped over with a scowl fixed over his face. 

“Skeppy, did you put glue on one of the books again?!” 

“Why would I do that? I’ve already done that like, five times. Pranks get boring after a while.” 

Bad’s entire face went red. “Ok-enough! What do you want Skeppy?!” 

Skeppy stared blankly at Bad. “What?” 

“You only do this when you’re trying to tell me something!” 

“What?!” 

Bad slammed his fist next to Skeppy. “You only mess with me this much when you want me to stop doing something! What is it?! I feel like everywhere I turn is opening a Pandora’s Box!” 

Skeppy paused. Bad… had noticed that? How? It wasn’t like-

“Skeppy, really, are you ok?” Bad asked, his voice sounding more exasperated than annoyed. 

Skeppy stared off into the distance. Was he ok? He died. He barely spent anytime dwelling on that. 

“Skeppy?” 

Was he ok? Was he hiding something? Was Bad really that quiet or could Skeppy not stand anything sounding like the moment he died? 

“Skeppy, you’re scaring me-”

Was any of this ok? He had been ripped from his own life, everything he wanted. His dreams, his family, his friends, everything was gone. Because he wanted to help someone. 

This was so fucked up, wasn’t it?

He was so fucked up, wasn’t he?

“Skeppy- are you crying?” 

That snapped him back to reality. He stared down at his shirt to realize that he was indeed sobbing. 

He stared down for a good minute. What was he supposed to tell Bad? That he just realized how fucked their lives were?

  
  


He jumped up. He didn’t want to feel like this. This… numbness. This surprise at feeling nothing. He needed anger. Sadness.  _ Anything.  _

“Skeppy, listen!” 

He froze. 

Bad looked a lot more scared than mad in the past five minutes. He gripped Skeppy’s shoulder, and painfully reminded Skeppy of just how easy it was for him to die at any given moment. 

“Bad, let me go.”

“I-”

“Let me go, _ now _ .”

Bad squeezed his grip. “Just-Just listen alright? I… know this is kind of weird right. I know this isn’t-” Bad sighed again. “This isn’t what life was like before.”

“No shit.” 

“Language!” 

Skeppy let out a sad chuckle. Bad let go, eyes never leaving Skeppy. “I just- if you want to leave, you can.” 

“Wh-Why would I want to leave?”

Bad stared at him as if he had lost his mind. “Because of all the pranks? All the jokes? All of-” 

“For love of god- no! I just… I wanted the house to feel alive! It’s so goddamn quiet here, Bad. There’s no noise. There’s no animals, no people, no nothing! It’s just you and mean. I don’t want to  _ leave,  _ I want to feel like I’m not stuck in a house in the middle of the woods! Why the fuck would I want to leave?!” 

Bad took a step back. “Ok, ok sorry! It’s just… whenever you prank, it’s usually because-”

“It’s because I don’t want to feel alone!” 

Another suffocating silence blanketed the house. Skeppy’s hand balled up into fists. “I just want to feel like I’m not dead anymore.”

Bad cringed, and Skeppy didn’t have to look at his face to know he was going to start crying again. 

“I...How about we get pets then?” 

“What?” 

Bad put his arm to his neck, never meeting Skeppy’s eyes. “You want this place to feel alive right? Pets might help with that.” 

“... Can I get-” 

“No, you are not getting a parrot.” 

“Aww, why?” 

“You taught our last one swear words!” 

And slowly, things fell back into place. 

Until someone set their house on fire. But that's a story for another day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all once again! You have no idea how much reading comments builds me up and makes me more motivated. Seeing you all just *dies*
> 
> Next Chapter: Dream interviews their newest roommate. Techno wonders if interviews count as hostage situations.


	7. Nothing Has Changed But You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream tries to get answers out of Techno. It doesn't go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know how I feel about this chapter. It's not bad or anything, and it was fun to write... but it's more filler? I guess? Then again, there's not much of plot going on. This was more focused on Techno's and Dream's relationship than anything. 
> 
> Once again, if you have any requests for this au, please leave them in the comments. I love to read them!

Techno woke up feeling more refreshed than usual. Maybe it came with not sleeping on the streets or while a war was going on. Maybe it was just because his fear of getting kicked out had been quelled. Maybe it was the fact that the mattress was softer than it had any right to be. 

Whatever. 

He eventually pulled himself out of the room, cloak slowly trailing behind him. As he made his way downstairs, the smell of smoke started to fill his nose. 

He frowned. The war was supposed to be over, right? But the sounds of yelling were making him think otherwise. 

He peeked into the kitchen, curiosity taking over his sense of self preservation. 

“For fuck’s sake, Dream! You burnt the fucking meat again!”

“Language!” 

“It’s not my fault you guys aren’t any help in the kitchen!” 

Oh. Kitchen duty. Great. 

Techno did his best to avoid the smoke as he walked downstairs. Bad had made it very clear that in a normal time, everyone would be doing their fair share of the work. However, considering all the destruction that the war had caused, Bad had made the other two groups in charge of all the chores for at least a month. Techno was surprised at how quickly the other factions agreed, but considering the performance Bad had put on yesterday, it wasn't super shocking. 

Eventually, Techno reached the bottom of the stairs, just in time to hear water being splashed and Snapnap screaming. 

"Dude! Keep that away from me! I'll die!”

"Snapnap, you're on the other side of the room, stop being such a drama queen!”

"Wasn't Snapnap banned from the kitchen after the charcoal smoothies incident?"

“Wh-yeah! Snapnap get outta here!”

“Fine, dad-”

Techno made the wise choice to walk over to the dining table and get himself some water. 

Skeppy and Tommy were arguing about something, not even noticing him strolling right behind them. Wilbur was on the other side of the table, pinching a very annoyed Fundy’s cheeks. Eret was sitting by himself, and Techno assumed that everyone else was either in the kitchen or had died from the smoke inhalation. 

“Are there usually fires coming from the kitchen?” he asked as he sat down next to Eret. The phantom shrugged. 

“Depends on who's cooking. So usually yes.”

Techno sighed, putting his hands forward and leaning back in his chair. This is what people usually did right? Wait around at the breakfast table until they are served? Make small talk? Read a book and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist-

His thoughts were put on hold by Dream storming out of the kitchen, some of his hoodie still smoking. “I had it in the bag, Bad! It would’ve been great!”

“If you mean the trash bag, then you’d be right!”

“What are we even having?” Tommy asked. 

“Waffles.”

“We  _ were  _ going to have sausages, but-”

“They were burned,” Phil quickly interrupted. “And I swear to god, if you and Bad start arguing again I’ll smack you both.”

A hushed whisper fell over the group as everyone began to dig in. 

Techno got up and took another glass of water. This was very stressful. Why did he want to stay here again?

“So, Techno,” Dream asked, somehow speaking clearly through his half stuffed face. “How'd you exactly find out about your wither powers?” The question rubbed him the wrong way for a reason he couldn’t quite place. 

Techno stopped to think for a moment. “Someone tried to hug me. I put them in a coma for two weeks.” 

Phil,Wilbur, and Tommy started to laugh their heads off while Dream made a sound similar to a tea kettle. The rest of the table let out much quieter laughs and snickers. 

Techno stared blankly at them. Was that funny? 

“You guys are terrible,” Bad said after a few minutes of laughing. 

“You just have a terrible taste of humor,” Tommy snapped back. 

Techno stared down at his plate. 

“Aren’t you gonna take anything?” 

“W...Withers don’t eat.”

“What?”

Once again, all eyes on him. Not the greatest feeling in the world. 

“We don’t eat food. We absorb energy through our ‘wither effect’.”

“So you’re like a vampire!” Skeppy shouted. 

Techno stared at him, confusion etched all over his face. 

“Huh?” 

“You have to suck the lifeblood of living things around you in order to sustain yourself! Expect you’re not drinking our blood.”

Dream nodded in agreement. “So… when you put the wither on me yesterday, were you draining my energy then too?”

Techno took another sip of his water. “Basically. It was mainly to make up for all the injuries I got during that fight though.”

The zombie’s eyes didn’t leave him, full of mistrust and doubt. “So… how often do you need to feed?” 

“Uh…”

“Because, I mean, I’d like to know when you just start sucking all the life out of us.”

Dream had crossed some sort of line for the others, with George sending him warning looks and Phil looking at him, a fear not subtly hidden in his eyes.

“What? It’s a fair question!”

“...You do realize plants count as ‘living things’ right? I usually just take energy from them.” Techno responded. 

“Oh.” 

Dream hung his head before returning his eyes down to his plate. The table seemed tense with an energy Techno couldn’t quite describe. 

“Can you taste it? Does plant energy feel different from people energy?” Fundy asked, his excitement seemingly tone deaf to Dream’s defeated mood. 

Techno titled his head. “...No. Though plants do put in a lot more of a fight to keep their energy than people usually do.” 

“... That doesn’t make any sense.” 

He shrugged. “That’s how it works for me.” 

“Does it work that way for other withers too?” Bad asked. 

“I dunno. I’ve never met any other fusions.” 

“Oh?” Dream perked up from his depressive state. “That’s funny, because last time I checked there were no such things as wither fusions.” 

And the tense air was back in less than a second. Techno steeled himself. He beat Dream once. He could easily do it again. 

“Are you trying to imply something?” 

Dream pointed his fork at him from across the table. “I’m just saying that no one has ever heard of wither fusions before. Then all of a sudden, you come in here and try to pretend you’re a skeleton. Then you say you’ve never seen any other wither fusions either? You’re not exactly painting yourself as trustworthy.” The silence that followed was deafening. 

Techno stared at the fork. “...And how would I appear more trustworthy?” He slowly scanned the rest of the table, hoping against everything that someone would help him out. 

“By telling us where you’re from, and how exactly you exist?” 

“Dream, that’s enough-”

“...I can’t tell you that.” 

“And why not?” Dream was starting to lean across the table. Techno could feel the world shrink, as if they were the only two in the room. 

“...I don’t remember.” 

And just like that, the black spots circling his vision disappeared and everyone else came back into view. All of them had various versions of shock on their face, expect for Dream, who simply narrowed his eyes. He gulped, before continuing. 

“At some point, I lost my memory and woke up in a town. I kinda just started wandering around and figuring myself out. I don’t really know how I was born or whatever.” 

Dream’s eyes reached full slits. “What about your name?” 

“I found a toy called ‘The Techno-blades.’ I thought it was cool.” 

“...That’s a lot more of an anticlimactic backstory than I would’ve thought,” Tubbo replied. “Wait, how old are you?” 

“That… is a very good question.” 

“Y-you don’t even know?!” 

“ I mean, I wasn’t wandering around thinking ‘aw man, I need to keep track of time.’ Plus, I don’t know how old I was before I lost my memory.”

“I bet he’s in his forties,” Tommy whispered to Jack. “He’s got the voice for it.”

“Hello? What about my voice?” Eret asked. 

“I’m thinking the forties too,” Wilbur said. “You sound like you’ve lived a thousand lifetimes.” 

“I may have. Who knows.” 

And as the rest of the table devolved into sarcastic quips and easy conversation, Techno could never feel himself safe from Dream’s gaze. 

* * *

“Do you need something from me?” 

The voice cut through his thoughts, just like his sword slashed through the punching bag as he dropped it to the floor of the dojo. 

Dream stopped for a second, staring at the ruined bag in front of him, before turning his gaze to his newest roommate. “What makes you think that?” 

The wither stared at the torn up bag, lingering on the stuffing. “The interview you gave me at breakfast. It gave me an inclination that you were very curious about me, judging by the way you grilled me on a past I don’t even remember.” 

Dream scoffed. “You can stop lying, you know.” 

“Pardon?” 

Dream pointed an accusing finger at the other. “There is no fucking way a type of fusion just shows up here, lies about what kind of fusion they are, and then conveniently has amnesia so they don’t have to explain how they were made or why they lied.” 

Techno tilted his head, not at all phased by the accusation. Dream wished for once, he could change that. “I’m sensing a bit of… how do you say it… projection?” 

Dream tensed up, feeling a strange buzz in the back of his brain. “What?” 

“I may be an amnesiac, but that doesn’t mean I can’t read. I know what the zombie ritual does. I’m surprised you’re as sane as you are. But that sanity didn’t bring your memories back, did it?” 

The buzz was getting louder and louder. The dull brown matts of the dojo turned into the charred black grass of the forest. The smell of morning dew was gone and replaced with burned bark and fresh blood,  _ his own blood, oh god, he was dying, he was dying and-  _

Dream gasped for air as he collapsed, the smoke filling his lungs. If the stab wound didn’t kill him, the fire certainly would. Or maybe the smoke. God, what kind of hero was he, dying from three different things at once? And not even saving anyone. This was a personal mission and this-

He felt like screaming, but his mouth was dry and no one was coming to save him. What was the point? There was nothing left if he came out of the woods alive other than a broken reputation and-

His thoughts stopped when he felt two hands firmly grip his shoulders. “H-Holy shit, uh-, Dream you need to breathe. Wait, do you? You’re undead- fuck it. Dream, you need to breathe before you faint. Please listen to me, jesus christ-”

The floor slowly began to bleed back into brown with each gasp he took. The smell of fire and smoke began to die down, the air clearing up and the pain in his chest shrinking by every excruciating second. 

Dream opened his eyes again (he didn’t remember closing them) to see Techno in front of him, large black holes somehow managing to be filled with panic while also not changing in the slightest. 

“Please breathe, please breathe, oh thank god, wait you’re seeing me right? You’re not still-”

Dream shoved him off. “I’m  _ fine,  _ thank you very much.” 

Techno stumbled back a bit, breathing in his own sigh of relief. “Sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“I didn’t stab you, did I?” Dream asked, scanning the floor for any sort of blood. 

“No?”

“Oh thank god,” Dream said, dropping down to the matts. 

“...You have a habit of stabbing people during a panic attack?”

“That wasn’t a panic attack.”

“Mmhm. And I am very good at expressing emotions.”

Another silence filled the room. Dream hated it. He didn’t need Techno’s pity, he didn’t need anyone’s pity. He was fine on his own. 

“...I wasn’t lying about my memories. But… I do have nightmares from time to time.”

Dream perked up, looking back at the wither fusion as he started to clean up the dilapidated training bag. 

“Nightmares?”

“I don’t really remember them, at least not that well. But there’s usually a lot of dead things. I remember dead things. Oh, and blood.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” 

Techno shrugged nonchalantly. Dream really wished he’d stop doing that. “You wanted to know.” 

Dream sat up again. “Let me help you clean that up.” 

And the rest of the day continued as normal. As normal as they could be, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dream: im angsty  
> techno: hi angsty, im done with this shit
> 
> Next Chapter: Phil adopts three children. Maybe four. He lost count.


	8. I Don't Know How You'll React

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil adopts a lot of people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3K+ CHAPTER HOLY SHIT!
> 
> ALSO 9K HITS WHAT THE FUCK. WHERE ARE YOU GUYS ALL COMING FROM. THANK YOU SO MUCH HOLY FUCK. 
> 
> alkdj;asfjask;df im sorry this is just so much i cant,,,,,
> 
> Once again, if you have any requests for this au, leave them down in the comments! I love reading them! Also just comment in general. Validation spurs me on.

Phil is one of the oldest people in the mansion. Which is surprising, considering he isn’t that old, and the fact that there were about 10 other people who were in the mansion who all somehow managed to be around college age was a bit weird. 

Because of his age, people had jokingly called him the ‘dad’ of the mansion. He learned to stop caring about it at some point. Maybe it was when Wilbur joined in. Who knows. 

But maybe that title was more fitting that he originally thought. He couldn’t help but look at Tommy and feel like the kid needed _some_ kind of parental figure in his life, and if no one was willing, might as well be him. 

This really started to hit him the day after the duel. Tommy was much more noticeably quiet, from his hunched shoulders to him speeding through breakfast to hide in his room. With anyone else, he would’ve brushed it off. But Tommy was one of the most extroverted people he knew. Him holding up in his room probably wasn’t good for him. 

Phil ran over his options. He could just straight up ask what was wrong, but it would’ve been more invasive than helpful. He and Tommy didn’t exactly know each other well. Asking someone close to him like Tubbo or Wilbur would also present that same problem. 

As he was lost in his thoughts, he walked past Dream’s room. His eyes wandered through a crack in the door, catching the swords pinned against the wall. They all had dents and cracks, most likely from just how often Dream trained with all of them. It scared Phil a little, just how intense Dream could go with his ‘training’ at times-

_‘That’s it,’_ he thought to himself. _‘Training!’_

And he extended his wings, flying straight for the weapons room. 

* * *

Turns out, Tommy was already there, staring at the bows and arrows with a strange longing in his eyes. Phil awkwardly stood in the doorway for a few seconds, before taking a deep breath. 

“You wanna practice?” 

Tommy jumped about five feet in the air. 

“What the fu- when did you get here?!” 

“About five minutes ago,” Phil answered easily. For someone who talked big, he seemed to be easily scared quite often. “You still haven’t answered my question by the way.”

Tommy seemed taken aback, though from the question or from his appearance was still unclear. 

“Uh… wait. You want to practice. With me.”

Phil tried his best to look nonchalant about it. “You don’t have too if you don’t-”

“No! I want to! I’ve always wanted to slay a dragon!” Tommy yelled, grabbing the bow and quiver from the rack. “I’m gonna pull a Fundy on you. I’ll put out some naeusa arrows and then-”

“Ok, ok, chill,” Phil laughed. “Don’t make me regret this.” 

* * *

Tommy wasn’t as good with the bow and arrow as he might’ve wanted to look. 

He wasn’t _bad,_ per say. He was good at keeping track of his opponents, and never turned his back to him. He wasn’t on the rookie level. 

But he was way too fast to shoot. He barely took any time with aiming, when he did, he took way too long to the point where his hands started shaking. 

He was much better at melee combat, as Phil had expected. He didn’t last a full 15 minutes against Dream and Techno without having some skill. He tended to run away quite fast though, especially if Phil was on the verge of tapping out. 

Phil didn’t voice these observations, instead opting to make banter with the teen. If he went all ‘sensi’ mode now, he might scare the kid away from every training with him again. 

“You know, for an enderdragon, you’re pretty weak,” Tommy said after the third round. Phil raised an eyebrow. 

“Really? How?” 

“You haven’t flown as much as I thought you would. You also didn’t set anything on fire. It’s kinda disappointing.” 

“Ah, you’re right. My apologies for not wanting to _burn the house down.”_

Tommy stuck his tongue out. “You say that, but you’re fighting with me. I’m willing to burn this room down if it means I get to say I defeated a dragon to all my friends.” 

Phil laughed again. “You know, for someone who claims that they’re not an arsonist-”

“I never claimed that. You are remembering things wrong. You have alzheimer's, stupid.” 

“Respect your elders, kid.” 

“See, when you usually talk, I think you’re mature. But when you say stuff like that, you sound like a 12-year-old boomer.” 

Phil stopped dodging, not even caring as the teen landed a shot right above his knee. “A twelve year old _boomer?_ What does that even mean?” 

Tommy shrugged. “Exactly what it sounds like. You’re a boomer stan.” 

_“A what?”_

Phil had to call the match, too busy laughing his head off to focus on the fight. Tommy let out his own giggles, though much more subdued than the dragon’s. 

“You know Tommy,” Phil started after he had finally caught his breath a good five minutes later. “You’re really funny when you want to be.” 

Tommy perked up. “R-really?” 

Phil smiled, patting the younger on the head. “When you’re not screaming obscenities, you’re fun to hang around with.” 

Tommy blinked, still processing the compliment. “R- I mean, of course, bitch. It’s time I got some fucking respect around here.” 

Phil rolled his eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head, child.” 

“I am not a child! I am a ma-”

“It’s been fun Tommy, but I’m going to go get myself a snack now. See ya!” 

And Phil took off straight for the kitchen.

* * *

Tommy’s mood had definitely been improved by their sparring, so Phil considered that a win. He didn’t know why he was so invested in this kid’s emotional state but-

Ok, that was a lie. He knew exactly why. Tommy was so _young._ Most hybrids at least had the luxury of being an adult before their fusion traits started showing up. Tommy had been thrust into exile and public alienation as a child. Phil didn’t know what he’d do if that had happened to him when he was a teenager. 

_Maybe_ he felt awful whenever Tommy would mention his family. _Maybe_ he felt bad whenever Tommy jokingly called him dad, knowing he had been ripped away from any parental figures at the ripe age of 15. _Maybe_ Phil wanted to burn whoever set up the standard that every fusion had to be shamed out of their hometown, no matter how similar they were to humans and how-

Phil shook those thoughts out of his head. Tommy was much happier now than he was in the morning, and that’s what counted. He walked into the kitchen, gently tracing the blackened counters with his fingers as he opened the cabinets, silently mulling over what to eat. 

“Tommy, are you- Oh. It’s just you.”

Phil spun around, only to see a familiar drowned standing in the doorway. 

“Oh, hey Will. Were you looking for Tommy?” 

The undead had shed his revolutionary outfit from the days prior, instead wearing his usual bright yellow sweater that clashed against his more dulled aqua skin. His pants were also a much more relaxed gray. Will himself looked much more tired, with almost grey bags under his eyes. 

“Yeah. Where is the little gremlin child?”

Phil laughed again. “He really is, isn’t he?” Last I checked, he had just left the training room going to hang out with Tubbo.” 

“Oh thank god. I was really worried he was going to try and fight Dream again.” 

“That does sound like him.” 

Wilbur sighed as he leaned against another burned counter. “I swear, sometimes I can’t let that little shit out of my sight. I’m afraid he’s gonna burn Dream’s room down one of these days.” 

“He _is_ a blaze. He should be allowed to commit a little arson.” 

“As a treat.” 

“Yeah, as a treat. Say, isn’t it your turn for lunch duty?” 

Wilbur’s entire mood visibly soured at that. “Philll, don’t remind me. I hate cooking. I hate cooking more than I hate water, and I _drowned_.” 

Phil laughed again, patting the younger on the back. “Relax, I’ll help you.” 

“Oh, thank you. You have no idea-”

And that started a 10 minute rant about the horrors of cooking and how much better raw fish tasted, especially when sprinkled with sand. Yeah, Phil didn’t get it either. 

“Look Wilbur, you’re allowed to eat whatever you want. But you are not feeding anyone else sand as long as I am standing right here. Christ- is that what you were giving L’manberg during the war?” 

Wilbur shrugged as he pulled out another packet of raw meat and started to empty it onto a plate. “No, of course not.” 

“Ok, because the way you were-”

“Only Tubbo.” 

“Wha-Will!” 

“What?! He’s a slime. He could eat obsidian if he wanted to!” 

“That doesn’t mean you _encourage_ it!”

“I wasn’t encouraging it! He said it tasted good!” 

“Alright- Wilbur, get away from the meat. I don’t trust you with it anymore.”

“Fine. Whatever. Less cooking for me.” 

“I don’t think so.” Phil set a cutting board down in front of the other. “C’mon, chop some onions. We’re making soup.” 

“You know, a litt-”

“If the next word that comes out of your mouth is sand,I will knock you back to the ocean you drowned in.” 

Wilbur stuck his tongue out, but otherwise followed his instructions. 

* * *

The soup, thankfully, turned out well (despite Wilbur’s insistence that sand was the best flavoring for it). There were no fires coming out of the kitchen, which made it an immediate improvement over breakfast. 

Speaking of breakfast, Phil hadn’t seen Techno since the morning. Considering how anti-social he acted, Phil normally wouldn’t have been worried, but considering the little ‘interview’ Dream had pulled out of nowhere, he was worried they had scared him off. 

After the debacle that was lunch, with Tommy picking a fight (a sure sign he was feeling much better) he decided to set out and find the wither fusion. He walked through the halls, not really knowing where to start his search. Maybe in the dojo? Or the library? Or maybe his room, if he had already chosen it? Phil definitely wouldn’t find him then. He was pretty sure there were about 50 guests rooms in this place. 

“Oh, Phil, there you are!” 

He came back to the real world to see Tubbo running towards him, broom and trash can in hand. “Could you help me?” he asked innocently, pulling those puppy dogs eyes he knew the dragon couldn’t resist. 

Phil internally cringed. If Tubbo was pulling the puppy eyes without even telling him what he needed, then this was going to be bad. 

“What do you need help with?” he asked, in the least exasperated tone he could muster. 

“I need help cleaning up the front yard! The one we had the duel in?” 

“Oh, that?” Phil replied. “ Sure, I can help!” 

And the two of them set off to the front. 

* * *

Now Phil had realized why exactly Tubbo pulled his trump card out so fast. The front yard was a mess. 

Half of the grass was burnt off, leaving a stark black ground behind. There were arrowheads and small bits of metal everywhere, ensuring that you couldn’t walk through the field without getting stabbed in the feet at least once. 

“Um,” he started. “How exactly do you plan to clean up the burnt areas?”

“Oh!” Tubbo said. “I don’t! Bad said he just wanted all the arrows and stuff gone from the field. Unless you have an idea for how to get the grass growing again.”

He poked at the burnt ground. “Nah, let’s just stick with… whatever you said.”

Tubbo handed him a bag, and with a regretful sigh, they got to work. 

“So…” Phil started awkwardly. “How are you doing?” 

Tubbo paused for a second, considering the question. “I mean, I’m ok. Could be better though. We’re still deciding where exactly the boundaries of L’manberg are.” 

Phil frowned. “I thought you were done with that after the duel.” 

“Well, we’re done with the fighting. You guys said you just wanted the wars to stop, not the groups to disband. It’s not like we’re at odds with Dream’s borders or anything, so it’s cool.”

“If your borders aren’t at odds, why were you fighting in the first place?”

“Because Dream’s a jackas- I mean a jerk! He started implementing all these rules like ‘don’t experiment with potions’ and ‘don’t sleep in the hallways’ like he owned the place or something!”

“You can swear with me you know. I don’t mind.”

“Oh really? Thanks. Anyways Dream’s a fucking son of a bitch and we had a right to rebel.” 

Phil broke out laughing again. Tubbo simply shrugged it off, carefully picking up some of the nausea arrows that had missed. 

“Wilbur acted like that too, but I kept swearing, and he told me to stop because it felt too unnatural. I still swear when I’m around Tommy though. He likes it.” 

“I can see Wilbur’s point,” Phil said through his laughs. “But you can say whatever you want.” 

“Wilbur’s a good leader but he says a lot of things that don’t make sense.”

“Like eating sand?” 

“Ye- How did you know?”

Phil sighed. “It was… interesting helping him cook today. Who’s turn is it for dinner, by the way?”

“Uhhh…. Eret’s, isn’t it?”

“Ok good. I do not want a repeat of the morning.” 

“Yeah, Eret’s a good cook. Not good at staying loyal though.”

Phil snorted, continuing to scan the ground for any other shattered pieces of weaponry. “You see any more?” 

“Uhhh… no, actually. I guess we found them all!”

“And if someone gets stabbed while walking through here, it’s their own fault!”

“Yeah!” Tubbo agreed enthusiastically, even though he really shouldn’t have. “Thanks for the help Phil!”

“No problem!” he yelled back as he flew straight back inside. He had a wither fusion to find, after all. 

* * *

Techno was not easy to find. At all. 

He had gone through all of the common rooms, including Jack’s movie theater in the basement and Eret’s little pride flag room. He had checked both the right wing and the left wing, with the pinkette nowhere in sight. It was starting to get concerning. 

It was even more concerning when Eret called for dinner and Techno didn’t show up then. He started to ask around, and of course, the last one who had seen him was Dream. 

“What?” Dream asked when everyone sent him a glare. 

“You kind of asked for this,” Snapnap added as he bit into a piece of charcoal.

“What? I was just curious!”

Needless to say, Dream did not know where he was currently. And that was what Phil was most worried about. 

He decided to do one more sweep of the mansion before he officially went into panic mode. He checked the basements first, then the left wing, then the right wing. 

He wasn’t in any of the bedrooms, as expected. Most of them had already been claimed anyways. He checked in the indoor greenhouse, and still found nothing. Finally, he headed to the library once again. 

The library was one of the largest rooms in the mansion, which was saying a lot. It could’ve boasted two floors just on the sheer size of the bookshelves alone. With just how tall everything was, it felt so easy to get lost, despite all of the shelves leading to the same small reading space. Phil flew past the shelves as quick as he could, hoping to cover as much ground as possible before-

He stopped when he saw a flash of pink in one of the many narrow halls. He flew straight back, to see Techno on a ladder, slowly looking through books with a small stack of more books at the bottom. 

Phil silently walked up to him, hoping not to startle the other. His eyes wandered to the stack of books. 

_‘A Guide To The Gods: The Wither And The Dragon.’_

_‘Origins of the Wither: A Journey into Death, Demons, and Cults.’_

_‘The Mystery of The Demon of Death: A Study into the Stories of the Wither.’_

_‘The Black Plague: Wither or Witchery?’_

Phil was starting to sense a pattern here. 

“Oh… hey Phil.”

Phil looked up as Techno slowly slid down the ladder. “Hey yourself. I’ve been looking for you all afternoon. Where have you been?” 

Techno blinked. “It’s already afternoon?”

“It’s… evening right now.”

“Oh.”

Phil took a look at the book Techno had just pulled down from the shelf. “ _‘The Fear of Fusions: A History?’_ What made you pick that?” 

Techno looked at the shelf besides him, seemingly interested in anything other than Phil’s face. Phil sighed. “Just curious.” 

“If this is about what Dream said, then don’t worry. Dream’s just paranoid.” 

Techno flinched. “...How could you tell?” 

“You? I doubt you suddenly gained an interest in the history of withers, and as for Dream… that just comes with knowing him after a while.” 

Techno picked up one of the books from the pile and slowly slipped it back into the shelf. “...I’m not lying about my memories.” 

“Literally no one thinks that. Unless you’ve been studying on how to kill us this whole time, heard me come in, and you pulled out all of these books to make it look like you weren’t, which is fucking ridiculous, there’s no reason for me to believe you are.” 

Techno stared at another one of the books on the floor. “You really believe me?” 

“Is there any reason I shouldn’t?” 

“....No. But-”

“No buts. Now, you should probably head and sleep in for the night. You already picked a room, right?” 

Techno blinked slowly. “I...should’ve done that already, huh?” 

Phil snorted. “C’mon. I’ll help you put these back then you can choose a room. There’s plenty of room in the left wing. Uh-” Phil paused. “You still need to sleep right?” 

“... Yeah.”

“Ok, good. I don’t think reading these books about how evil your species is would be good for you anyway.”

Techno picked up the stack of books off the floor, handing some to Phil. “...Thank you.”

Phil smiled. “No problem.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phil: haha i guess im a dad  
> Phil: *starts adopting people*  
> Phil: *surprised pikachu face*
> 
> Next Chapter: As a phantom, Eret is physically incapable of sleep. This comes with its own set of pros and cons.


	9. With Pride And Joy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eret has been awake 24/7 all his life. He's seen a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS WTF 12K HITS???? HOW-WHERE-HOLY SHIT-
> 
> IS THIS WHAT DREAM FELT LIKE???
> 
> YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO ME I'M SERIOUS-
> 
> this chapter went through like 5 revisions, sorry for taking so long!
> 
> Like I said, if you have any requests or prompts for this au, I'd love to see them in the comments! Leaving comments on this work or others helps a lot with a writer's motivation, not just my own!

Phantoms were finicky creatures. 

They were demons, the same way the wither was. But unlike the withers, they weren’t summoned via rituals or crimes against nature. They were summoned through nightmares. 

Phantoms had never been studied as hard, considering most people saw them more as a mild annoyance than an interesting creature. No one knew when they first started appearing, or why. The only consistency in their appearances was someone waking up in cold sweat from a terrifying dream, only to look out their window and see those green eyes leering at them. 

Eret never really cared much for his mob counterparts in the beginning. Which is weird, considering how  _ big  _ of a change it made to him. Not sleeping by itself was a huge (and noticeable) difference. He had spent his first few years of elementary school learning how to fake sleep, how to close his eyes and breathe slow enough that no one would notice him bouncing his leg as a way of not feeling completely useless throughout naptime. 

Another major difference was his glowing green eyes, which stood out a lot more. He wore his sunglasses as a coverup, pretending he couldn’t notice the weird looks it gave him. He always felt safer with his glasses on. 

It didn't take him long to figure out what he was, and it most likely didn’t take his parents that long either. His father clearly knew something was up, considering the note he had left his mother on his tenth birthday before leaving town and never coming back again. 

(He remembers his mom breaking at the sight, screaming about demons and curses in the midst of her jumbled words. He asked her if she thought he was a curse. She told him to go spend the day with his friends. He doesn’t like remembering much of his childhood anymore.) 

Eret spent a lot of his life hiding after that. It wasn’t like him, being a much more extroverted person than he would’ve liked. Somedays he’d crash, locking himself in his room, staring blankly at the ceiling as his mom would beg him to come out of his room, even if it was just to eat breakfast. 

He was kicked out at the age of eighteen. Eret never found the anger to blame her. 

(Eret didn’t find much emotion in anything back then.) 

* * *

He would forever stand by his statement that finding the mansion was the best thing that ever happened to him. He had only heard whispers of it, a house where fusions could live and thrive without the judging eyes of society glaring down on them. So many had set out to find it. No one ever did. 

Eret didn’t so much as find it as ‘crash through the roof’ of it. 

He had been flying through the night, doing his best to stay high enough so people wouldn’t spot him. That didn’t work out as well for mobs though, especially skeletons who somehow sniped him from a mile above ground. The arrow shot straight through his right wing, leaving him with barely enough control of his flight pattern to land safely. 

He swooped in multiple directions, almost doing loops through the air at some points as he tried to stall enough time to find a safe landing space. 

He saw the roof of a building sticking out from the dark green leaves that surrounded it. Looking back, that should’ve set off some alarm bells, but he was too busy trying not to break any limbs to properly think his plan through. He just needed to land. 

He tucked his arms in as he prepared for a crash landing. Pushing his feet forward, he squeezed his eyes shut, praying to whatever god was out there that he wouldn’t break anything on the way down….

And rammed straight through the roof. He gasped, tumbling along old creaky wooden floors as shards of wood fell all around him. 

Eret stayed on the floor for a few seconds, catching his breath as he tried to process what had just happened. The smell of old wood filled his nose as he pushed himself back up onto his knees.

He looked up to see a zombie on a shelf hissing at three people below him, all carrying iron swords. They all stared at him, and he couldn’t do much besides sheepishly wave back at them. 

“Hi?”

* * *

Phantoms are summoned through the negative energies generated by a nightmare. So it would make sense that a lot of phantoms would show up in a house full of outcasts. Still, it disturbed him. There was never a single week without a phantom appearing and glowering at them behind one glass window. Eret made it his personal duty to shoo them off. 

As more people came to the house, more phantoms came to the mansion. They’d usually spike during the first week, but they’d die down after a month. 

(He’d never forget when Tommy and Tubbo came to the mansion, each night having a phantom claw at Tommy’s window while the boy cried out for his parents to take him back. He’d deny any action afterwards, leading to the cycle repeating until Tommy snapped and burnt every belonging he had, softly crying into Wilbur’s arms as he did.)

(Tubbo simply stared at them, the usual light in his eyes drained and tired as he watched the phantom screech and cry until Eret scared it off and Tubbo would go back to normal like it was nothing.)

( _ He never did find out what happened to the two of them.) _

* * *

When Fundy joined the mansion, the phantoms spiked up a lot more, but not because he was sleeping. It was rather because he wasn’t. Like, he was going 3 days straight without sleep. Eret was pretty sure he was on the verge of losing it. He was going to have to tie Fundy down to the bed to keep him from jumping everywhere. 

The the third night, he decided to do just that, grabbing some tape and marching over as soon as the screeching began again, throwing the door open, ready to smack some sense into-

“You wanna fucking go?!” 

Into a room where Fundy was cursing out a phantom. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m talking to you, asshole,” the witch said, eyes bloodshot and the bags under them dark and heavy. “You think you have any right to be here? Use your stupid screehy voice and keep me awake? Well guess what, asshole! I’m already awake! You can’t beat the power of solidified caffeine!” 

Eret stared, his jaw hanging open as Fundy continued his tirade. “Fuck you! You think you’re so fucking cool with you wings and shit?! You look like a reject...reject! Yeah, take that asshole! I’m gonna-”

Fundy stopped as he turned around and noticed Eret in the room. Eret quickly walked out of said room and closed the door behind him. 

They never spoke of that again. 

* * *

Another incident happened when Phil joined them. His arrival was one of the few that didn’t spark an increase in phantoms, which was probably because he was not a college student and knew how to deal with his trauma. (Yes, this was a self callout. But he didn’t sleep, so it was ok.) 

It was something that put him in a weird, anxious state. Someone being mentally stable in this household? Impossible. So he made a habit of checking in on Phil every so often. 

About a week in, his efforts paid off. He walked his usual and put his ear against the door, listening closely for the sound of any screeching. He did hear  _ something,  _ though it wasn’t a loud cry. Rather, it was a low, almost humming noise. 

It wasn’t a snore, because it was constant. Like a broken radio or a tv tuned to a dead channel. He quietly opened up the door. 

Phil’s room looked more like a storage room. He had so many shulker boxes, stacked up and around. Apparently Phil had some sort of order to them, though Eret couldn’t figure it out for the life of him. He had chests, all labeling with their own item frames and signs. It was almost intimidating how fast the man could get something done when he put his mind to it. 

He shook his head as he returned his focus back to the noise. It had to be coming from  _ somewhere,  _ right? It was definitely much louder in the room. He could’ve swore some of the lamps were shaking. 

Eret went closer to the bed, still very confused on what the sound was. It was coming from over there. Maybe the source was in one of the shulker boxes, but then why would Phil have it? Was this some sort of enderdragon lullaby? Ender Dragons were weird after all. He had never seen a fusion eat so many ender pearls in one sitting. 

_ ‘Wait,’  _ he thought to himself. The sound was definitely coming from around the bed. There were no shulker boxes or chest under the bed. The bed certainly wasn’t making any noise. So then… was this Phil’s way of snoring? But it was always constant so-

Wait. 

Was Phil  _ purring?  _

Eret almost dismissed the idea, but then again…. It definitely wasn’t snoring. 

Now that he was staring at Phil, it occurred to him how awkward his sleeping position was. His head was resting on his arms, propped up over the sheets. His body was bent a strange angle, where his legs were bent off towards the side. It almost looked-

Like a cat. 

Eret had to keep himself from laughing as he walked out of the room, a smirk growing with every step. He’ll let Phil keep it his own secret. Breaking his trust this early on might just scare him away. 

But he was definitely taking advantage of this.

* * *

You’d think as a creature of the night, he’d stopped being creeped out by people being weird during the late hours, but no. Far from that. 

One night while he was walking through the halls, he heard the sound of a fireplace crackling in the distance. He knew that this mansion had only two fireplaces, one in the kitchen and one in the library. He stopped walking, trying to discern where it was coming from. 

None of the blazes rooms were near the hallway he was in. In fact, the only two inhabited rooms were the storage closet and the library. 

Knowing that he would’ve most likely seen smoke coming out of the closet by now if something was burning there, he turned and headed towards the library. 

He stopped in front of it’s doors, not failing to notice the small crack when he was sure he had closed them fully just a few hours before. Trying to be as quiet as possible, he poked his head through the door. Behind the dark shadow of the shelves, he could see a soft, orange glow emanating from the usually cold fireplace. He quietly took a couple steps towards it, trying to see-

“You sure that’s all of them?”

-only to jump a good five feet in the air because of Sapnap’s voice. He took a peak around the corner, a shiver of uncertainty crawling down his spine. 

Sapnap’s question was directed at George, who was carrying a small stack of about 10 to 15 books. Eret couldn’t make out any of the titles from where he stood, but judging by how old and torn some of them looked, they had to be pretty old. 

“Yeah. Can we please just get this over with?” 

Sapnap slowly turned to the fire, his hands curling and uncurling. “Are we sure this is the right thing to do?”

George scoffed, though he could hear the uncertainty in his voice. “What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”

“It’s hurt both of us, and we don’t even know what the fuck happened.”

“Which is  _ why,”  _ George growled out. “Dream’s never going to find out. Now, are we burning these books or not?”

Sapnap stared at the fire. “...Are you sure this is what he wanted?”

“Y-yes.”

A silence filled the library once again as Eret tried to scoot in closer. 

“Sapnap.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think….Clay’s happy with what we did? What we have done? Where we are now?” George asked, pushing up his glasses and rubbing his eyes. Eret wasn’t sure if he was tired or if he was crying.

Sapnap shrugged. “Who fucking knows what was going on in his head. Let’s-” he paused again. “For fuck’s sake, George. You’re the one who started this whole operation. Please don’t make me start-”

“Fine.” 

And with that, George threw the books into the fire, letting the flames stretch out from behind the bars, almost burning the two in front of it. They were both transfixed on the bright orange flames, not moving or even talking as the heat burned through the paper fed to them. 

“No one will ever know,” George muttered. 

Sapnap nodded, and started to scoot away as George pulled out a bucket of water from under the reading table and dumped it on the flames. The two men shared one last nod of understanding, before slipping back into the halls of the bookshelves and presumably back to their rooms. 

By the time Eret reached the hearth, whatever knowledge those books held had been reduced to dark, scattered pieces of ash across the fire pit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> George and Sapnap: *important lore moment*  
> Eret: what are you two FUCKING talking about?
> 
> Next Chapter: Dream is curious, George is desperate, and Sapnap is conflicted.


	10. AN: Please Stop Being Fucking Gross

Ok so. I'm really sorry for those of you that thought I was doing a double update. But I need this to be heard and this is my largest story so I'm going to post this here. 

When I first joined the MCYT community, I was scared because most fandoms involving real people had a very bad reputation. As I joined discord servers and interacted with more people, I found out that this wasn't as big as I thought it was. 4 months in, and I have met tons of wonderful people who respect the creators and their boundaries. HOWEVER. 

There are people who don't care about these creators beyond what they can provide for their personal entertainment. You may be asking what I mean by that. What I mean is the people who ignore what creators have _specifically_ _said_ about what they are comfortable with and post it online. 

You people are the scum of this fandom. People who ship creators who have _said_ that they don't want to be shipped. People who write NSFW work about those creators or even minors. (Those of you who write it about minors? You're incredibly disrespectful and uncaring, whether you are minor yourself or not.) If you are like this, then I want you to get off this story and never touch any of my works again until you mature and realize what you are doing wrong. I don't care what your excuse is, stay ten feet away from me at all times. 

And to those people writing Tommy x adults? A fucking adult? What the fuck is wrong with you? That's so awful in so many ways that I can only hope that it's a minor that's writing those. Because if an adult is writing those sort of fics, you should go to hell. I'd usually reserve myself when it comes to fandom discourse, but you people are clearly out of control. 

I've also seen some people say things like "This is just for the shippers" and "They won't ever see this, so why shouldn't I?". To those people, let me present a scenario:

You meet someone, and they ask you to refer to them purely by they/them pronouns. And you do when you're around them. But the moment they're out of earshot, you refer to them as he/him. That's really rude, isn't it? Even if in their eyes, you've only referred to them as they/them? Isn't that cruel? To only listen to them when they can tell you are?

I understand that the pronouns issue and ignoring creator's boundaries are very different issues, but in the end, they both come down to how much you value their person. If you value a creator, then you'll listen to them and not write creepy shit about them when they ask not to. It's not rocket science, you fuckers. It's simple respect. 

I understand that this a small portion of the overall fans, but it's big enough that there has now been more than one NSFW fic involving minors, and it's really fucking disturbing. I don't care if 'your a minor' and 'it'd be weird if you were writing about adults'. Because 1), you shouldn't be writing this at all, 2) you shouldn't be writing this about REAL PEOPLE, and 3) children can still create child porn. Once again, it is not rocket science. Just respect the creators, and leave them alone when they ask you to. 

I'm sorry for interputting this story with this, but at this point I'm afraid to open A03 for the bullshit I might find on this page. To all of those fans who respect the creators, thank you. You're the only thing keeping me here and not making me orphan this work. 


	11. Or Regret And Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream finds out he doesn't have to find the truth alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys are fucking insane. everytime i saw the number of hits, you guys say 'bet' an increase it by another thousand. what the fuck yall are madlads. 
> 
> Once again, if you have any requests or prompts for this au, please leave them in the comments! Seeing them really motivates me. Thank you for reading!

Dream’s room was very messy. He had weapons scattered all over his desk, each varying in shape and age. Pieces of trash littered the floor and books were haphazardly thrown into the shelves. Even his bed was a mess, it’s pillows thrown to different ends and blankets scrunched up in one corner. Bad may have hated him for it, but the mess made him feel at home. It reminded him of a place he could never fully remember. 

Dream sighed as he pulled out his conspiracy board once again. He always had to take it down since George and Sapnap visited a lot, and they probably wouldn’t be happy with what he had been thinking. 

George and Sapnap obviously knew something more than what they were telling him. The nervous glances, the shaky voices, and the fast subject changes proved that. The problem was _what_ they were hiding from him. 

He knew how he died. A stab wound to the chest combined with smoke inhalation. He knew his name before: Clay. He knew he was a war hero of some sort; admired by all those who fought on his side. But that didn’t give him what he wanted to know. 

He wanted to know his murderer’s name. 

He wanted to know their face, their reason, their history. He wanted to know what they had done, what _he_ had done, to deserve such a painful death. He wanted to know why he was brought back, why the kingdom needed him so bad. He wanted to know who he was, what he was supposed to be. He wanted-

“Dream?” 

He wanted to not be interrupted while brainstorming for once in his life. 

Dream turned around to see Techno leaning on the doorway, staring at his board in interest. “What do you want?” he hissed out, a little meaner than he intended. 

“Dinner’s ready,” he replied as if he hadn’t seen something Dream had been hiding from the rest of the house for the past 6 months. “Sapnap’s cooking.”

“I thought he was banned.”

“Bad said he was watching him.”

“That doesn’t make me feel more confident.”

“Yeah, me neither. You’re on cleanup duty, by the way.” 

Dream groaned as he shoved the board under his bed and headed towards the kitchen. 

* * *

“Are you sure these potatoes are safe to eat?” he asked as he poked the blackened vegetable with his fork. 

“I mean,” George replied, already having eaten a mouthful. “I can chew through them, so that’s something.”

“You guys are jerks,” Sapnap grumbled. 

“We like eating food that isn’t carbonized,” Wilbur quipped back. 

“Is that a real word?”

“Your face isn’t a real word.”

“What-”

“Ok, ok! Everyone, chill out!” Bad yelled from the end of the table. “The food is safe to eat, even if it is a little… crunchy.” 

He was met with grumbles and unsatisfied whispers, but everyone dug in nonetheless. 

“So, like,” Tommy started with his mouthful. “Did anyone notice some books going missing from the library?”

“Really?” Techno asked, putting down his glass of water. “Which ones?” 

“The ones from the legend section. Mainly about the Burgundy War? The ones with Clay?” Tubbo answered. 

Dream shot up immediately. “They’ve gone missing?! I never got to read them!” 

George glanced between Tubbo and Dream. “ I mean, maybe someone moved them? Techno’s been in the library a lot. Maybe he-”

“Dude, I don’t even know what the Burgundy War was. What are we talking about?” 

“Those were my history!” he shouted. “How could they have just gone missing?!” 

“Your history?” Phil asked, setting his fork down. “What history?” 

Dream stared at him, godsmacked. “Oh right, you’re from the End. You never knew.” 

“Knew what?” 

“Dream is super angsty about not being able to remember his past as a celebrity,” Wilbur said, a smile growing large on his face. “I mean, I would be too, but it’s like the universe is working against him to just make him not know. It’s kind of funny.” 

Dream snorted. “My name was Clay before I died and came back. No one ever found out who killed me and it’s driving me insane.” 

Techno titled his head. “You were murdered?” 

“Someone stabbed me through the chest and left me for dead in a burning forest.”

“Ah, that’s rough buddy.” 

“What the fuck are we talking about?” Fundy asked. 

“Apparently Dream was murdered and never found out who did it.”

“Damn, that sucks.”

“Do we really need to talk about this now?” George half-pleaded. “We’re eating dinner.”

Dream barely held in a snort. George would avoid anything involving ‘Clay’ even if it killed him. “Fine. Whatever.” 

And dinner went on as normal, no matter how much Dream hated it. 

* * *

Straight after dinner, Dream headed back into his room and pulled out his board again. He grabbed some paper off his desk and tore off a corner as he began to scribble some notes down. 

Why did life hate him this much? Was he a mass murderer before? Did he commit some huge crime against nature that had slipped under the radar? That would explain why George and Sapnap refused to tell him anything. 

He sighed again as he let the board drop onto the bed. He felt like no matter where he looked, there was nothing he could learn. Everywhere lead to a dead end. 

He collapsed onto the bed, barely missing the board. Maybe he shouldn’t be so focussed on this. Maybe he shouldn’t be so obsessed with his past. But it drove him up the wall all the same, whether he tried to ignore it or not. This feeling that he had to know, had to see, had to-

And then he heard a knock at his door. 

He shot up almost instantly, hands moving and shoving the board under his bed again like clockwork. He took a quick glance in the mirror, wiped the tear tracks going down his face (when did he start crying?) and dusted off his clothes before opening up the door. 

“Hey Dream!” Bad said with his usual cheer. “Can we come in?” 

Dream scanned the hallway around them. “...We?” 

Bad frowned, looking around the area as well. “Oh for goodness sake-Skeppy!”

“What?!” 

“Stop hiding! Where even-”

Skeppy sighed, jumping out of Bad’s hood as growing to full size as he hit the floor. “Bad’s doing all the talking, I’m just here for emotional support.” He picked at his nails with a bored expression spread across his face. 

“Uh...huh.”

“Anyways, can we come in?” Bad asked again. “I want to talk to you about something.”

“Sure?” Dream opened the door wider, letting the duo waltz into his room. 

Skeppy whistled. “Dang. This is almost as messy as my room. Good job Dream.” 

Bad let out an exasperated sigh. “That isn’t-nevermind. We aren’t here to talk about your cleanliness, worrying as it is.”

“Then what _are_ you here to talk about?”

“What happened at dinner.” 

Dream froze. 

“You seemed really worried about those books going missing,” Bad continued. “Which is fair! Considering we’re literally the only people who know this place exists, the thief has to be one of us.”

Dream sat back down on the bed. “What are you implying?” 

Skeppy snorted. “He isn’t ‘implying’ anything. He’s saying that your friends stole the books.”

“I _did_ not say that, Skeppy-”

“We were all thinking it!” 

Dream stared blankly at the two. “I mean, it was pretty obvious. George and Sapnap aren’t exactly subtle. Why are you telling me this?” 

The two stopped arguing. “You already knew?” Bad asked, a mix of concern and pity (Dream hated pity, hated it hated it hated it-) in his voice. 

He shrugged, trying to contain his anger. He didn’t want to scare them off. “Like I said, they’re not subtle.” 

Bad stared at him, mouth wide open. Skeppy didn’t pause for a second. “Well, we’re basically offering our help.”

It was Dream’s turn to be shocked. “You’re… what?” 

Skeppy sighed as if this was the most simplest thing. “You wanna know more about your past right? Wanna know why your friends are lying to you. We want to help you with that as well.” 

Dream drew his knees into his chest as he pondered the vex’s words. “What do you get out of this?”

Skeppy raised an eyebrow. “We get a friend who isn’t feeling alone and lost.”

“You consider me a friend?” 

“Wh-Why wouldn’t we?” Bad asked, tilting his head. “We’re all friends here, right?” 

Dream had to stop to think. This was the first time since he was revived that anyone actually encouraged him going and figuring out what had happened to him. The first time in his afterlife that someone hadn’t told him to leave the past alone and move onto the future. It came as a bit of a shock to him. 

“Hello?” He felt someone knocking on his head. “Anything going on in that dead brain?” 

Dream snapped out of his introspection and batted Skeppy’s hand away. “You guys really wanna help?” 

Bad put his hands on his hips. “That’s what we’ve been saying for the past five minutes!” 

Dream inhaled a bit, mentally preparing himself. “Ok.” He grabbed his board out from under the bed, ignoring Skeppy’s yelp at the sudden movement. “I’ve been gathering all the info I know about what happened on here for the past few months.” He tapped at the paper in the center. “I died due to a stab wound through the heart, as evidenced by the stitches on my chest.” 

“You have stitches on your…?” 

Dream ignored the evoker, too focussed on getting everything out. “I know that I knew George and Sapnap before I died, though I’m not sure about the claim that we were childhood friends. I also know that they were somehow involved with either my death or revival, though I know for a fact that the king was the one who resurrected me, and considering his hatred of hybrids, I doubt they played too much of an active role in that.” 

“Dream, wait-”

He pressed on. “The king also did not want me finding out who killed me, which makes me doubt it was either George or Sapnap who pulled the trigger. If it _had_ been one of those two, he would’ve used that as a way of increasing the stigma around fusions.” He blinked back the tears in his eyes. Why was he crying? He hadn’t even gotten to the worst of it yet. “In fact, he seemed eager to bury my death and my legacy as quickly as possible. After my revival, I spent most of my time away from the public eye, carrying out hits for him until-” 

“Dream!” Bad shouted, shoving Skeppy aside as he shook Dream violently. “Calm down!” 

“I am calm,” he answered, dropping the board in a very not calm way. 

“Well… you should slow down. How about you walk us through this info first, then we go and look in the library for clues on what happened to the books?” 

Dream was taken aback. They really _did_ want to help him. The weird feeling that was spreading through his chest was almost foreign to him, a strange, almost soft buzz slowly consuming his torso. “O...Ok.” 

“Oh thank god,” Skeppy said from behind Bad, tone deaf to Dream’s revelation. “ I think I only caught the part where you died and were revived from your little spheal.” 

Dream snorted, and started over again. 

* * *

After taking what felt like an eternity to explain to the duo everything he knew about his death, the three finally headed over to the library to see what happened to the missing books. 

“Is it just me, or does everything important these days involve the library? Like, that’s where we stole the books to start the duel, where Phil found Techno, where you found the books to revive me-”

Dream made the wise choice to tune Skeppy out about three minutes in. The walk to the library wasn’t that long anyway. 

Eventually, they did arrive at their destination. Dream cautiously pushed the door open and took a quick survey of the area to make sure it was empty. Skeppy had no qualms about that however, judging by how he shrunk down and flew in front of Dream to get a better look at the room. 

“The books in here are organized by subject, right? So if we go over to the history section, then there should be a gap where the books should be,” Skeppy stated, not caring about Dream’s caution. 

“Skeppy, be quiet! We’re in a library!”

“But I’m right, right?” 

“Ugh-Yes, yes you are. C’mon Dream let’s head over to the history section.” 

Why did Dream feel like he was a third wheel trying to solve his own death?

The group passed through the shelves and into the main reading area. Bad and Skeppy backed up towards the fireplace as they attempted to read the rotting wooden signs that labeled each shelf. Dream mindlessly followed them, not paying attention to the jab of pain he felt from bumping up against the fireplace. 

He still hadn’t really processed the idea that they were helping him. In the back of of his mind, he was still expecting them to wip out some ulterior motive that would explain everything. In his daze, he grabbed the fence around the fireplace and hoisted himself on top of it, not caring how wobbly it was. Until, of course, the thing collapsed with a loud-

_BANG!_

The other two jumped, Skeppy letting out a very undignified shriek. “Dream!” Bad yelled. “What the hell?!” 

“Sorry, sorry!” he apologized, pushing himself up from the fire pit. He shook his head, trying to dust off all the ash and dirt that he had fallen into-

Only to spot a burnt piece of paper slowly floating down. He grabbed it, narrowing his eyes as he tried to read the few inches that had remained unburnt. 

_‘The Bur-’_

Dream blinked, turning back to the fire pit. There were dozens more of the pieces, all torn and blackened. “Bad, Skeppy? I think you guys need to see this.”

The two joined him, looking at the burnt paper scattered around. “Wha…?”

Skeppy flew in, grabbing at the pieces and reading them at lightning speed. “These were definitely part of a book or something. They’ve all got some words written on them.” He turned back, the realization quickly spreading across his face. “You don’t think…?” 

“They burned it. They fucking burned it.”

“Burned the books?” Bad asked. 

“I guess it makes sense,” Skeppy answered, flying out of the pit. “They didn’t want you reading it, right? Best to get rid of them permanently than just hiding them.” 

“Wait,” Bad interrupted. “You’ve been here for six months. How did you not get to the books sooner?”

“Because I still believed them when we came here!” Dream yelled. “I still trusted them! And when I finally realized that I probably shouldn’t, they get rid of every way I have of finding out!” 

“Finding out what?” 

The three whipped their heads towards the source of the new voice. Tommy and Tubbo stood in between the shelves. 

“Uh-nothing-”

“Is this about the books?” Tubbo asked. “You figured out what happened to them?” 

“Well, yeah.” Dream picked up a larger piece of burnt paper from the fireplace. “They were burned.” 

“Oh.”

“Someone burned them?” Tommy asked. “Man, they must really not like you. Not that I blame them.” 

Dream shot a glare at the blonde teen. “I am not in the mood for your shit right now Tommy.” 

Bad sighed. “Dream, language. Anyways-” He turned towards the other teens. “What are you two doing here?” 

“We were here to find out what happened to those books,” Tubbo answered easily. “Though you’re clearly a step ahead of us. Are you sure they burned all of them though?” 

“Why would they only burn one of them if they took like 5?”

“...Fair enough. But i’m sure you could find more copies if you tried! Like the public library from the town-”

“Isn’t everyone here who can pass as a human banned from the library?” 

“Ok, that is not my fault, it’s Fundy’s. He’s the one who set off those fireworks-”

“You set off fireworks in a library?!” 

“ _I_ didn’t set them off, it was Fundy! It was really cool though.” 

Dream sighed. “Well, I can’t go to the public library, and I don’t think breaking in is a good idea considering if we get caught, we'll be on the wanted poster for weeks, and we get our groceries from there.”

“Yeah, not to mention Tommy’s already got his up there.”

“Tubbo-!”

“What did you even do to get on there?!” 

“Do you know any other places I can find information on the Burgundy War?” Dream asked, ignoring his growing concern for Tommy’s criminal history. 

“I mean….” Tubbo trailed off. “ I guess I could break into the castle library again if it was that important. 

Dream blinked. Did he hear that right? “I’m sorry, you could _what_ again?” 

Tubbo shrugged. “When we were still traveling, me and Tommy broke into the library cause we thought it would be fun. It wasn’t that fun, considering its pretty hard for me to read, but-”

“Woah, woah, back up a second!” Bad yelled. “You broke into the castle library, a place where only the royals are allowed to go, for _fun?”_

“You guys are pretty hardcore,” Skeppy whistled in approval. 

“Yeah!” Tommy interjected, a big smile plastered over his face. “It wasn’t that well guarded. They didn’t even know we were there.”

Bad put his face in his arms. “I’m surrounded by criminals,” he muttered. 

“Didn’t you kill somebody?” 

“If you had too, would you say you could break in again?” Dream pressed, a plan forming in his head. 

Tubbo and Tommy looked at each other, then back to Dream. “I mean… I guess. If we really had too. Why?” 

“Dream,” Bad said warningly. “If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking-”

“Are you going to help me or not?” Dream asked. “Because I’m willing to go, with or without you.” 

“C’mon, Baddd,” Skeppy drawled, grabbing the evoker’s shoulder as he grew back to full size. “If we go, what’s the worst that could happen? The five of us are practically unstoppable!” 

Bad bit his tongue as Tubbo finally realized what Dream was planning. “Wait- you want us to break into there again?”

“I want to,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Whether the rest of you join me is up to you guys. I just need you to show me the way in.” 

Tommy leaned back on the shelf. “I mean, it does sound fun, right Tubbo?”

“Yeah! Though I’m not sure all five of us could sneak past the guards…”

“Oh please!” Skeppy yelled, the smile on his face growing wider every second. “I can literally go through walls, and I’m sure Bad knows a few disguise spells. The only person we really need to worry about is Dream.”

“...I’m sure I’ll find a way in,” he said, his voice much more serious than his companions. 

“Wait,” Bad said. “So we’re doing this. We’re breaking into the castle library.” 

All eyes were now oh him. “Are you going to stop us?” Dream asked, challenging him through tone alone. 

Bad sighed again. “We are so going to regret this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dream: *having a crisis*  
> Also Dream: what do you mean i have to trust people to learn things? i cant just feel completely alone forever?
> 
> Next Chapter: The group sets off. Geroge and Sapnap reflect. Techno and Wilbur vibe.


	12. You'll Have Learned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream explores. George regrets. Wilbur and Techno ponder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BRO,,, 20K? 20 FUCKING K? HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS. THIS IS- I CANT- HOLY FUCK. THANK YOU GUYS AGAIN. 
> 
> also, quick question. would yall mind if I included modded mobs as well? I'm not gonna add anything super overpowered, but I think that adding some modded mobs would diversify my options and make the story a lot more interesting. I'd probably include the links to the mods as well, of course. But like, what do you guys think?

They left without much fanfare, which was good for Dream. The less he had to explain himself, the better. He packed light, just enough food to last him in an emergency and his handy iron tools from when he still travelled. They may have been worn out, but they had served him well enough before. Also some iron boots, in case they had to travel over some rocks. 

Bad and Skeppy weren’t as modest when it came to packing, though Dream blamed that more on the evoker. He clearly just wanted some food and some TNT (for reasons Dream couldn’t bring himself to be interested in). Bad had brought a full on camping set, inisting that Dream use the one he had bought for himself when learning he was so much more used to sleeping on the floor. 

“It’s fine!” the evoker told him, smile as wide as ever. “I’ll just share a bed with Skeppy.” 

Dream would never forget the image of Techno spitting out his water in the background. 

Tubbo and Tommy were like him when it came to the items they brought, so they were relatively relying on Bad to carry all the heavy stuff. Not that he minded.

The situation only really hit Dream once they had been walking for an hour out of the manor. He was going to break into a castle to find out what happened to him once and for all. And he wasn’t doing it alone. Maybe that’s what shook him the most. Ever since his ‘falling out’ with George and Sapnap, he hadn’t really considered the idea that someone would actually want to help him. And yet, as they hiked through the trees and farther and farther away from the mansion, that reality was becoming painfully hard to ignore. 

The group was pretty loud, which was something he could do without. Skeppy and Bad were having an argument, while Tommy and Tubbo were reminiscing about the first time they had broken into the castle. He walked in front of the group, pretending that he was incredibly focussed on the map and not thinking about how he had evolved into the fifth wheel on an expedition about him. 

Eventually, the sun began to set and the group began to set up camp. Dream worked diligently; the more work he did, the less he had to think about what he’d find in the castle. Of course, Skeppy and Tommy were having none of that. 

“I never thought I’d say this, but I agree with Bad. You’ve sworn so much you might actually be cursed or something.” 

“What do you mean you’d never thought you’d-”

“Ok, fuck you Skeppy. Mr ‘Oh-I’m-so-funny-I’m-so-good-at-trolling-people’! Get a new fucking routine already.” 

Dream snickered despite himself. “I mean, can’t evokers curse people? Couldn’t you just curse Tommy so that everytime he says a swear word, something bad happens to him?” 

Bad clapped his hands together. “That’s actually a very good idea! I’ll have to look it up though. Thanks Dream!” 

“Wh- no, no, no, Bad please, I have a wife and kids, please don’t curse-”

Dream laughed again, and continued setting up the campfire. 

-

Eventually, the quintet had settled down and were now chewing through the cooked meat Bad had brought for them. 

“I hope everything’s ok back at home,” the evoker mumbled through his meat. “Phil’s got a lot of people to take care of.” 

“To be fair,” Dream interjected, having already finished his own dinner. “We did take Skeppy and Tommy out of the equation so that’s like, 80% of the percent of the chaoticness right there.” 

“Uh, hello? Wilbur and Fundy? What about them? I’m pretty sure they could destroy the mansion by themselves.” 

Tubbo snorted. “Skeppy, we have a wither and an enderdragon in there. Anyone could destroy the mansion if they really wanted to. Expect maybe Ere-”

“Don’t you dare say that name around me.”

“Oh right, sorry. Expect the filthy traitor and like, Jack. Jack’s pretty chill.”

Dream laughed again. “You’re willing to travel with your main enemy but still refuse to forgive Eret?” 

“You didn’t pretend to be our ally, Dream. You were the person we were rebelling against.” 

Skeppy giggled as he picked another piece of chicken from his plate. “You guys took that war sooo seriously, didn’t you?” 

“It was a fucking war, Skeppy. Not all of us just play pranks. Some of us are veterans.”

Dream zoned out as the rest broke out into an argument about the validity of the L’manberg Revolution as a war. The castle was still a good two days away if all went well. Considering that he was travelling with Tommy, his best bet was about 4 days. Bad had brought some invisibility potions with them, and if the library hadn’t changed from how Tubbo and Tommy described it, that would be all they needed to sneak in. Well that, and a little bit of luck of course. 

He ran over the plan to break in over and over, ignoring the foreboding sense of what they would learn once they found what they were looking for. 

* * *

Was it possible to have a panic attack that lasted throughout an entire day? Because that was what George was feeling right now. That or a super heightened anxiety. Maybe it was both. 

He kept on running over what he was going to say to Dream i-  _ when  _ he came back. As long as he didn't go anywhere public, he would be fine. Dream was strong. He could probably fight off half the army if he really wanted to. That, and the fact that the king wouldn’t kill Dream if he didn’t have too. Imprison him, maybe even toture, but letting his best hitman die at his hands wasn’t a smart idea. 

No, George feared where Dream was going. He hadn’t been specific; just mumbling about a long hike he was going on. He knew it wasn’t though; the moment he had offered to go with him Dream’s neutral face had been exchanged for a mix of anger and fear. He snapped ‘you don’t need to babysit me’ before running off to Bad and saying that he was ready. 

George flinched even at the memory. He had hoped the whole ‘revolution’ thing would make it easier to talk to Dream even after, but that was clearly not the case. Ever since the falling out, Dream would kill if it meant he didn’t have to stay in the same room as them by himself. 

Why did he get rid of the books? Why had he done this to himself? Where did it all go so wrong? Maybe it would be better if he just-

“Georgeeee!!!” 

He snapped out of his daze as he jumped from the couch. “Sapna- what the heck?!” 

Sapnap stood in front of him, hands on his hips. “I’ve been calling you for the past five minutes! ‘What the heck’ yourself!” 

George fully sat up, scowl not leaving him for a second. “I’m sorry that some of us have the ability to think. What do you need?” 

Sapnap huffed again. “You’re supposed to cook lunch today, remember?” 

George shoved himself off the couch and walked straight past Sapnap. “Look, sorry. Lemme go and get the stuff ready, and then-”

“Were you thinking about Dream?” 

George stiffened. Why did Sapnap’s emotional intelligence show up at the worst times? 

“You were, weren’t you?” 

“As if you’re not worried too,” he snarked, though there was no real malice in his voice. 

“It was your idea to burn the books,” Sapnap continued. “They didn’t even have anything in them, it just-” 

“He would’ve gotten closer!” George yelled, ignoring the taste of cinders building up in his mouth. “He would’ve gotten closer, then he would’ve been more confused, then he would’ve shoved us away more-” 

“He’s already shoved us away as much as he could! We’re out the door in his mind! I doubt he even considers us friends anymore! You’re doing-”

“I’M DOING WHAT CLAY WOULD’VE WANTED!” 

The room shook as hot tears started to leak out. He was dimly aware he had released a small fireball, judging by the new brunmark decorating the couch. Sapnap didn’t even flinch; he had long gotten used to the burning projectiles leaving his mouth during times of stress. 

“Clay’s dead George, that’s the whole fucking reason ‘Dream’ even exists.” 

“And I’m going to do what he wanted until the very end,” George let out bitterly. “Now if you excuse me, I’m going to go cook lunch.” 

* * *

Techno was not exactly in tune with social cues. He could walk in on a funeral and not know what was happening until they showed the coffin. He had done that once, actually. He had the excuse of being ‘blind’, so he got out of it fairly quick. 

But even he could tell something was off at lunch. He had just been passing through, getting himself his usual glass of water, and had barely registered the silence till he was halfway out the door again. 

He slowly turned back, looking at the tense stares pointed at George and Sapnap. His eyes slowly flickered between the two sides of the table. 

“Um… Are you guys ok?” he asked, genuinely concerned. 

“We’re  _ fine,”  _ George snapped out, angrily picking at the curry he had made. 

“Gogy’s mad cuz his boyfriend ran off without him,” Wilbur said in a sing-song voice. 

“I am not mad,” George straightened up, and started to scoot away from Sapnap as well. “I just find it weird.” 

“You find it weird that Dream left after you guys burned the books?” Eret snarked. “Yeah, what a strange move.” 

Both Sapnap and George flinched, and Techno suddenly realized this was a lot more serious than he originally thought. 

“Wait- they burned the books?” Phil asked. 

“Phil, I literally saw them do it. They acted so angsty about everything,” Eret replied without hesitation. 

George’s grip on his fork tightened, and Techno could see little cracks forming in the handle. 

“Can we just not talk about this?” Sapnap asked in a last ditch effort. “Dream’s probably just fucking around with Tommy or whatever.” 

“As if anyone would willingly hang out with Tommy Innit.” 

“As if we don’t all know the reason why Dream left,” Fundy interrupted, spinning his fork around. “And frankly, I don’t blame him.” 

The sudden fire in George’s eyes caused Techno to back up into the door frame. He didn’t even know what was going on. Why were the arguing about the burning books? 

“You don’t know anything about-” 

“That’s really nice George, but I think Techno and I are going to take our leave now,” Wilbur said suddenly, getting up and throwing the rest of the food in the trash. “He promised to show me his room, right?” 

Techno could tell Wilbur was fishing for a quick way out of here, and frankly, so was he. “Y-yeah, sure. C’mon Wilbur.” 

The drowned dumped his plate in the sink and grabbed him by the hand as he dragged him out of the kitchen and into the hallway. 

When the two of them were far away enough, Wilbur slowed his speed and took a deep breath. “So…. where is your room exactly?” 

Techno raised an eyebrow. “On the other side of the mansion, why?” 

Wilbur sheepishly smiled and shrugged. “Look, I just wanted to get out of there, okay? Arguments don’t taste well with Gogy’s curry.” 

“Why do you call him that?” Techno asked as he led them both in the opposite direction. “ ‘Gogy?’ “

Wilbur shrugged again, staring at the hallways as they passed. “I dunno. A girl from the village who liked him called him that one time and none of us have ever forgotten it.” 

Techno scoffed a little but didn’t comment on it more than that. 

After a while, Wilbur spoke again. “We’re going to the very far left here, Techno. Is this the right way to go?” 

Techno smirked a little. “I don’t like getting caught up in all your wars, Wilbur. Some of us  _ like  _ being alone.” 

“The war’s over now. But I guess I get it. How far-”

“We’re here.” 

The room was all the way on the far left of the mansion, and Wilbur couldn’t help but note all the other much closer rooms they had passed on the way here. He didn’t comment on it. 

Techno slowly reached for the door, pausing to look back at the drowned behind him. “Uh…” 

“Yes?” 

“Do...do you actually want to see it? I mean, you can-” 

“Techno… are you nervous?” 

He didn’t get a response, but the strange black coloring slowly darkening the wither’s cheeks told him everything he needed to know. 

“Aww….Techno…. Are you lil emwbassed? Are you a lil scarwed? Do you thwink I’m gonna make fun of you for your room?” he asked, attempting and failing to hold in his laughter. 

Techno’s didn’t look at him as he swung the door open, and Wilbur gleefully took a peek. 

It was much more… elegant than he imagined. There were blue lanterns attached to the ceiling with polished metal chains, illuminating the bookshelves that lined the walls. It seemed almost mystical, in a way. The lantern’s blue hue made it look like something out of a story book. Wilbur found himself drawn in, pushing past the other to get a better look. 

“You’re a better interior decorator than I thought, I’ll give you that.”

“...Thanks?” 

Techno slowly slinked in as well, though a lot more hesitant than Wilbur. The drowned in question was staring at the bookshelves, hands slowly trailing the binds of each one. “Are these from the library?” 

Techno shook his head, sitting himself down at his desk. “Only a few. I’ve found the rest of them in my travels.” 

Wilbur whistled. “Impressive. Never took you for the collecting type.” Techno didn’t respond, simply shrugging as he pulled out a random book and laid on the bed. “ _ Rat Experiments?”  _ he looked up at the wither from the bed. He simply got a shrug in return. 

“I started thinking about whether there were any rat fusions in the world and got distracted.” 

“Oh god,” Wilbur whispered. “Could you imagine? Meeting another fusion and they’re like ‘yeah i'm a badass blaze’ or something like that and having to say ‘I’m a rat boy.’ The pain you must feel.” 

“I guess the closest thing to that would be like… a silverfish fusion? Oh god, do those even exist?” 

Wilbur held back a snort. “I refuse to believe it. I refuse to believe that somehow a fucking bug’s DNA got mixed in with a human’s enough to create that- would they even be normal height? Would they grow in size like Skeppy?”

“That is way too cool for a silverfish. They would forever be stuck at like, toddler height.” 

“Do you think Tommy’s secretly a silverfish fusion who just ate a lot of spicy peppers?” 

“That… would explain his attitude.” 

They went on like that for a bit, bantering about the existence of multiple fusions and how they came to be in the first place. Eventually, they started to get more and more invested in the books and less invested in the conversation. At least, for a little while. 

Slowly, Techno put down his book. “Hey, Wilbur?” 

“Hm?” 

“What… What’s happening between Dream and George?” 

Wilbur sat up, putting his book down. “I mean… I don’t really know. I came here after them. They seemed to all be really close, but then… There was some sort of fight going on. Dream thinks George and Sapnap know something about how he died, and he’s pretty desperate to find the truth. I don’t blame him. I’d want to know my killer's face too. ” He turned to the other hybrid. “Why do you ask?” 

Techno lifted his knees and pulled them closer to his chest. “I just… I feel like I know Dream.”

“Huh?” 

“I mean, I know him now, obviously. But… I mean, before. I’ve heard his voice before. I’ve… talked to him before. I think….”

Wilbur could tell where this was going. “Do you think you killed him?” 

Techno didn’t answer right away. “M...maybe? His fighting style seemed familiar and I don’t know why. I don’t… I don’t know anything about him but I still…” Techno sighed. “I feel like I know him. What if…?” 

Wilbur bit his lip. “I… I think if you did kill him, George and Sapnap would’ve had a much bigger reaction to you wandering into the house than they did. Plus, he was once a famous hero. You might've just heard his voice on TV or something.” 

Techno slowly nodded. “Yeah...yeah, I guess you’re right. Thanks, Will.” 

And yet, despite all evidence to the contrary, both men parted ways with extra heavy stones in their stomach. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dream: *having an internal crisis*  
> george: *having an external crisis*   
> techno: bro,,, what if,,,i murdered you,, and we're both amnesiacs....
> 
> Next Chapter: Flashback Episode! Dream's afterlife told through fights.


	13. So much more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback into Dream's first kill in his afterlife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so. I've been gone for like 3 months. I apologize. The problem was that I wanted to make this like, a huge chapter, but I felt like I was taking to long. Instead of just one chapter containing all of Dream's backstory, you're going to get around 4 chapters (this one included) exploring how Dream went from an underground assassin to a dude in a mansion with trust issues. 
> 
> ALSO 30K HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS ARE INSANE HOLY FUCK!

Dream’s first assassnation attempt was messy. 

Well, the killing itself wasn’t messy. It was a simple crack of the neck. It was more the getaway that really messed everything up. 

You see, Dream’s first target was a minister who had publicly spoken out against the treaty taken from some war that he vaguely remembered. As one could expect, the minister had a lot of guards. And while it was easy to sneak in when no one suspected anything was happening, But when everyone’s super alert because someone has just  _ died _ , it’s a lot harder. 

So, his escape attempt did not go very well. 

Which is how he ended up frantically jumping across rooftops, doing best to avoid the shouts and sights of the men behind him. He was out of breath, covered in cuts and scrapes from his botched attempt to get to the ground. Arrows flew past him, and flinched at the not so distant memory of getting hit in the heel with one about 10 minutes ago. 

What the hell was he even doing? He had barely spent a month alive (re-alive?undead?) before being thrust into the world with a man to kill. 

_ ‘Backroads,’  _ he quickly reminded himself.  _ ‘Backroads.’  _ If he returned to the castle through the front gates, that cause enough of a crisis to ensure his ‘permanent retirement’. 

He jumped down into an alley, closer to the poorer side of the capital city. There were a lot more ways to lose people there. Then again, there also just were a lot more people there. But he had to make do. Plus, if he made it out to the forest area, he could easily lose the guards there as well. 

He sped through the streets, taking random alleys and dark passage ways, not caring which direction he was moving in as long as it was out and away from the flying arrows, from the shouts and horrified onlookers. 

Eventually, he saw tall, brick walls, signifying the outskirts of the city were now up ahead. Climbing the wall would be far too risky, and going for the gates would hold the same deadliness, what with the guards stationed around. He didn’t know what the king would do to him if one of his own guards brought him in as a prisoner, but he couldn’t imagine it ending well. 

His brain ran through his options as he took a sharp right, skidding past a bakery and a couple of terrified children as well. Walls were too high to grapple and climb on, gates were too heavily guarded. The only way out was to avoid them both altogether. 

He reached for his last remaining ender pearl. He had one chance, so it better work. 

He quickly started to head back into the city, scanning the area for any tall buildings close by. They didn’t have to be taller than the walls, just tall enough to get a good aim above them. The blurred lines of red and white buildings flew past him, and the shouts of the guards behind reminded him that he had to be quick if he wanted to get out alive. 

_ ‘Bingo,’ _ he thought as he spotted a tall clocktower. Now to actually get to the top. 

He ducked into another alleyway just in the street across, doing his best to give the guards the slip up. He quickly slid out of the alley, readying his axe and swinging it once he got close enough to the door of the building. 

He tumbled through the door, yanking his axe out of its wooden remains before quickly analyzing his surroundings. There was a stairway leading up to the top, but no visible access to the outside. Meaning he’d have to break his own way out. Nice. Wonderful. 

He sucked in a breath, readied his axe, and started climbing. 

It didn’t take long for the guards to find out where he was, nor did it take time for them to pile in. However, the archers had been in the back of the crowd that was chasing him, meaning that they wouldn’t ever fit in the tiny area that was the ground floor of the clocktower, leaving only the soldiers to yell and throw their swords at him (which was considerably easier to dodge) or for them to rush up the stairs. 

Dream did his best to ignore the shouts from below him as he climbed his way to the top. 

To the right side of the clock, there was a sheet of painted glass, which was Dream’s best chance of escape. With the sounds of stomping feet behind him, he ducked his head in his elbow, readied his pearl, and charged. 

For a split second, the sound of shattering glass was all he could hear as he threw the pearl as hard as he could. Everything else became a blur as before he fell right back down to the ground, a loud  _ CRACK  _ echoing through the air as he quickly realized he had probably broken something. 

He had never been more thankful for accelerated healing. 

Dream attempted to push himself off the ground, only to be met with no response from his right arm (hey, it was better than his legs), but before he could even look at his surroundings, a sword went straight through his shirt and pinned him to the ground. 

“We’ve got you now, freak,” a deep voice said above him. “You’re not going anywhere, anytime soon.” 

Ugh. Now, they were going to gloat. Dream could only hope his pearl landed before he died of boredom. 

“What the hell were you even thinking?” another guard said, much farther back. Dream ignored him and took the time to scour the frightened crowd around him. “Killing the Minister of Justice like that… as if you fusions weren’t awful enough.”

Dream didn’t pay their insults any mind. Rather, he stared at the few bits of remaining stained glass that were still attached to the rest of the clocktower. He felt bad for the person who painted all of it. What even was it a painting of? He remembered vague shapes of blacks and purples, but nothing else. 

Dream hissed in pain as the guard ripped out his sword and grabbed him by the neck for the crowd to see. The expressions around him quickly turned from fear to anger. They started shouting, started throwing things, but he couldn’t hear him as the air he so desperately needed was getting cut off and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe-

And, just like that, the grip was gone. He gasped as he fell onto the grass beneath, forever thankful that his enderpearl had finally landed outside of the city. He gasped for air, letting himself lie against the grass for a good couple minutes, nursing his arm as he did it. 

Then he slowly pushed himself off the ground, and started limping deeper into the forest. He had to get into the castle soon, before someone came looking for him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dream: I've never felt safe. The outside world has always been against me. 
> 
> Also Dream: *murders someone the first time he leaves the castle* 
> 
> Next: The aftermath, and Dream meets someone new.


End file.
